


Carry On, Weary Traveler

by tulomne



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Dealing With Loss, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Reading, Nightmares, Sharing an apartment, Slow Burn, This is probably not how the force works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6492178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulomne/pseuds/tulomne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything she has ever done seems to have led up to the fall of Malak. She’s never really considered what came afterwards. So when Carth shows up out of the blue and decides to pull her from her post-Malak life (sleeping on the Ebon Hawk, eating ration bars), she is thrown into a dizzying world of adjusting to life on Telos. But the ghosts of her past do not stay dormant long. Although her armor is put away, the battle is far from over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this has been rolling around in my brain since I finished the game. It grew into a lot more than I had originally planned, and I realized I just had to write it down and sort it all out. This is for a light side, female Revan, who I named Kalyn Tora. I just recently started playing KOTOR II, but for consistency’s sake, and so I don’t have to be fretting about keeping it canon, I’m just deciding it’s divergent as of the last scene in KOTOR. Any coincidences are just that: coincidences. Assume everyone in the Ebon Hawk’s crew is alive, save for Bastila, who I was not able to save in the final battle. Tags will be added as needed.

Kalyn wakes with a jump at the hissing of the _Ebon Hawk’s_ entrance ramp descending. Her hand is immediately on her lightsaber, battle-ready nerves twitching to life. Her mind races as she slinks from the bunker to the main hull. How long has it been? The days on Telos IV post-Malak seem to blur. Too many celebrations. Too many funerals. She isn’t even sure what time of day it is. Her intruder is oblivious to her inhabitance, crashing around the ship, tearing through footlockers and storage containers. She powers on her lightsaber, and in a moment where her guest pauses, lands a swift kick to the center of his back. His face bashes into the wall, and her saber is at his throat before he can turn around. The violet light throws his portrait into relief, and she immediately withdraws the saber.

“Carth?” He turns, blinking rapidly as he slowly gets to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“What’s with the third degree?” Carth stretches his back and winces. He came wearing civilian clothing, an odd look to Kalyn, who has only really ever seen him in armor, and she had packed a punch in that kick. “I could ask you the same thing.” He rubs at his jaw where it had hit the hull of the ship. “And if you have to know I was looking for my blaster.” He pulls it from its spot - wedged between a security console and a footlocker - with a quick jerk. Eyebrows raised and smirking, he waves the blaster in front. “See?”

Kalyn says nothing, pocketing her lightsaber in her robe. She isn’t about to apologize for neutralizing a possible threat. It seems easier these days to assume foe before friend.

“You’re looking great.” Carth tries again, voice heavy with sarcasm. She fiddles with the singed sleeves of her Star Forge robes. It was either these or the dark cloaks of the fallen Sith she had encountered, and these definitely had less blood. She runs her hand through her hair, longer now than before. She has to push her bangs away from her face, and it brushes over her ears and around her neck.

“Coming from the man who looks like he’s always in need of a shave.” Her slight smile fades too quickly. She avoids his eyes; she’s bad at small talk. It’s like she hasn’t relearned how to have conversations that don’t have an end goal.

“Kalyn…” There’s that tone. Carth is running low on his patience. What little he had in the first place must’ve been knocked out of him. “Have you been living here?” Kalyn says nothing. She knows she doesn’t have to. “Why?”

She meets his eyes. “Carth, my last home was on Dantooine with Malak.” That name still leaves a bitter taste on her tongue. She hopes Carth can feel it too. “I haven’t had a bed that wasn’t assigned to me since my time with the Sith.”

“Surely the Jedi would take you in.” He offers, always too quick with a solution. The few remaining survivors of Dantooine congregated on Telos, forming a temporary refuge. It’s really more of a glorified apartment complex that was reserved for Jedi fleeing Sith rule until a new enclave could be formed. The refuge is classified to all save those involved, which extended to the members of the _Ebon Hawk_.

“It doesn’t feel right,” she lowers her gaze. “Many Jedi still see me as Revan. I’m the cause of too many scars right now. I am forgiven, yes, but not forgotten.” A bullshit excuse and she knows it, especially wrapped up in the Jedi lingo she’s always disliked. Carth furrows his eyebrows and she knows he hates it too.

“You can’t stay here. I won’t allow it.” Carth decides, hooking his blaster on his belt. Kalyn has a million retorts. You don’t own me. This isn’t your ship. This isn’t _your choice_.

“I can’t go back to the Jedi, they’re not ready for me.” Her surprise reflects in his expression. She hadn’t expected that one to come out. Carth ignores the obvious implication that she isn’t ready for them as well, and Kalyn is thankful.

“Then stay with me until you have somewhere to go. I have a spare room.” Kalyn raises her eyebrows at the mention of a second room, a flash of sympathy on her face. “It’s for Dustil, but you can use it.” It’s Kalyn’s turn to not comment on the intentional omission of not _when_ but _if_ his son would be returning to Telos. Neither of them know if he had even made if off of Korriban, let alone back to the Republic. Kalyn tries to process the offer, but before she can think, Carth pushes past her, headed to the barracks. “Alright, what do you wanna bring?”

Kalyn rolls her eyes. So this is how it’s gonna be. She grabs a thick leather backpack from the locker just inside the barracks and tosses it in the center of the room. She grabs the few things she considered ‘hers’: a blaster, her lightsaber, a couple sets of armor, her shields. She debates throwing in a few grenades, before deciding they’d get confiscated somewhere along the way. The Sith robes stay unpacked. Her face had been plastered on enough holo channels that to see her walking around in those would cause quite a stir. She adds her credit bag on top, making a loud metallic clatter.

“Kriff, got enough credits on you?” Carth picks up the bag and hefts it in his palm.

“Ration bars are cheap. There isn’t exactly a kitchen on board.” She replies before snatching the bag from him mid-air. It was also the only food available within the docking station, but she wasn’t about to admit to him that she hadn’t made it into the city yet. The backpack zips with a sharp tug. She glances over her shoulder. “Rethinking charging rent?”

“Call it compensation for maintaining the _Ebon Hawk_ for the past few months.” She smirks, and he returns a grin. Carth’s always trying coax reactions from her, making her cling to her reservations all the more.

They exit the _Ebon Hawk_ , turning the power settings to emergency lighting, and locking the entrance. The ship is docked in a station high above the ground, like the rest of Telos. Telos is hauntingly similar to Taris, with the majority of the city high in the clouds. The shuttle to Carth’s apartment is quiet and empty. Kalyn spends the majority of the time staring out the window at the city. She’s on high alert, her eyes following each speeder until it’s out of sight.

“Relax.” Carth breaks the silence. “The battlefield isn’t here. The danger has passed.” He’s trying to hide it, but she can tell he doesn’t believe it. That the battlefield isn’t here _yet_ , and the danger has passed _for now_. She gives him a tired smile through the reflection of the glass. Soldiers to citizens: it’s a tough transition.

Kalyn regrets not changing the moment she steps off the shuttle. Sure, the Sith robes were _Sith robes_ , but at least they were dark and inconspicuous. Carth is hardly a celebrity, but he’s recognizable, and with herself walking around in bloodstained clothes, it wouldn’t take too long to make the connection. She pulls the hood up over her face, not sure if it makes much of a difference. Carth gives her a sideways glance and quickens his pace, saying nothing. Again, Kalyn is thankful. He slows when they find the turbolift leading up to his apartment. His door contains the standard holo screen that also doubles as a facial recognition service, opening the doors once he approaches. It’s a small place, opening to a small hallway, the living room dead ahead, with a small kitchen to the left.

“Welcome to Casa Onasi.” He makes a grand sweeping gesture with his arms. “Balcony, couch, Tv doubles as a holo projector,” gesturing to each item as he spoke. The couch and sofa chair are worn and lived in, datapads and miscellaneous junk strewn across the caf table. Carth must’ve been here for a while. He might have even owned it before she met him. “I sometimes get official business reports through here, so keep the risque programs to a minimum.” She shoots him a look as he chuckles to himself. Unbelieveable. “Bathroom’s to your left past the kitchen. My room’s across that hall. Your room’s this way.”

He turns right and leads the way down the short hallway to a set of doors situated across from each other.

“Closet’s on the right, and your room…” he pauses to open the door. “...is here.” He motions for Kalyn to enter first. The room is a standard unfurnished apartment room. It looks as if it hadn’t been used since Carth began renting the place. A queen sized bed sits in the center of the right wall, a large Holo projector on the left. Large windows take up the entirety of the far wall, glass darkening blinds at 0%, allowing full view of the cityscape below. The sun is low on the horizon, tinting the room in a muted dusty glow. A closet in the far corner, a nightstand to the side of the bed. Kalyn drops her backpack on the bed, turning about the room, small smile on her lips despite her best efforts to stay neutral.

“Thank you, Carth.” She turns to him, gripping the sleeves of her robe. He turns away, grinning the way he does when he knows he’s doing Good. She’d hate it if he wasn’t being so damn nice.

“I’ll get dinner started. You get situated. Help yourself to what you can find. Maybe take a shower.” He winks before he heads down the hall, Kalyn glaring in his general direction.

It doesn’t take her long to put her things away. Blaster in the nightstand drawer, lightsaber under her pillow, everything else thrown in the closet with her backpack. She doubts an attack here: Carth’s apartment building is designated solely to grounded Republic soldiers or those on leave, and is decently secure, but if anything it eases her paranoia: she knows Carth had done the same. The closet is surprisingly unempty. A few pairs of cargo pants and earthy toned shirts are haphazardly hung up, and a pair of worn out boots seemed dumped on the floor. All too big for Dustil, must be Carth’s. She grabs the clothes and heads to the shower, the air already full with the smell of sautéed vegetables and spices.

The shower is unworldly, the heat of the water seeping right down to her bones. Kalyn grabs Carth’s shampoo with little thought. It’s a generic Republic brand, and smells of spices and musk. Better than nothing. It didn’t seem right to be smelling of flowers and vanilla after washing off blood and ash anyways. She stays in the shower far after she’s clean. There are sanitization chambers on the _Ebon Hawk_ , but they don’t clean the way showering by hand does. She dries herself with the towel resting on the rack nearby, each action labored with the heat from the shower.

Her bra is sticky with sweat, but it’s better than nothing, and she pulls a tan colored shirt over her head. It’s a light, breathable fabric, wouldn’t stand five seconds against blaster fire. _And it doesn’t need to,_  she corrects herself. The cargo pants are a dark grey, and luckily tie with a drawstring or there’d be no hoping they’d stay up. Apart from being decently thinner than Carth, she’s lost a fair amount of muscle since they landed on Telos. Understandable, when there’s no training to undergo or Sith to fight. Her Star Forge robes lie limp and ruined in her hands. They’re damaged beyond repair. The bloodstains are permanent, seams straining to hold the fabric together. She tosses them in the laundry dispenser, problem set aside for now.

The mist slowly clears from the bathroom mirror, granting her the first glimpse of her reflection in months. Her skin is dry and tanned, her lips chapped, and her hair falls about her face like a tattered rag. She scrubs her hands over her face, taking a deep breath. Some things you can’t wash away. Carth’s voice trails in from the kitchen. Existential crisis over for now. Another problem to deal with later.

Kalyn pads her way to the kitchen, the excitement of real food overpowering her past anxieties. Carth raises an eyebrow at her new attire before shooing at her to sit, depositing a plate in her lap as soon as she claims the armchair adjacent to the couch. It’s a simple meal. A dark meat slathered in a thick purple gravy and mushrooms, some type of mashed roots, and dark green vegetables. If she had taken time to observe the whole arrangement, she might had noted its similarity to some strange planet, violet oceans with dark rocky land and bright green forest. However, the moment he disappears to the kitchen she begins scraping as much as she can into her mouth at once, slowing only when he returns with his plate and two bottles. She pauses to pick up one of the bottles and examines the label.

“Tarisian ale?” She skeptical, shooting him a look. Ignoring the fact that Taris was now a smattering of space rock, there is no Tarisian alive or dead who would sell their ale in a bottle.

“Complete Bantha fodder.” He explains. “But it gets the job done. There’s a cantina I know that sells the real stuff, I’ll have to show you sometime.” _Sometime_. Like this is going to be a routine thing.

Carth is right, it gets the job done. Kalyn downs the bottle quickly. Compared to the recycled water she had been drinking on the _Ebon Hawk_ , this is top quality. They eat in comfortable silence. “Have you heard from the others?”, she asks, scraping the last bits of gravy from her plate. Carth finishes taking a long swig of his ale before he answers.

“Canderous is gone.” He begins. “Last I heard of Mission and Zalbaar they had headed back to Kashyyk. I assumed you Jedi had gone to the refuge.” Kalyn makes a face, irked to be roped in with Juhani and Jolee on little reason other than choice of weapon.

“And why would you think that?” Carth looks surprised at the retort, then annoyed.

“I don’t know.” He sets his plate down. “I guess it was a better assumption than hiding away in the _Ebon Hawk_. Not like I was given any reason to think otherwise.”

Oh. So that’s how it is. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted to keep tabs on me.”

“I don’t I just -” Kalyn raises her eyebrows, waiting for a response. “What was your plan? Living off rations for the rest of your life? Disappearing from everyone?”

“I don’t need a lecture, Carth.” She crosses her arms and leans back in the chair.

He runs his hand over the stubble on his face. “Kalyn, I’m just trying to help.” He sounds tired. Mostly frustrated. Like he expected a different person than the one he got off the _Ebon Hawk_ with.

She stands. “I didn’t ask you to help.” She mutters under her breath, regretting it almost immediately. She leaves to drop her dishes in the dishwasher. When she returns to the living room, Carth has turned away from her. “Thanks for dinner.” Her voice is neutral as she passes him on her way towards her room.

The bed is warm and forgiving and Kalyn doesn’t deserve it. There are a lot of things she doesn’t believe she deserves. It doesn’t take long for her exhaustion to overwhelm her guilt, and she falls asleep in little to no time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life debt what life debt Zalbaar got the fuck out of there


	2. Chapter 2

Kalyn wakes at nearly midday, sun glaring through the window glass. “Windows, 30%” she mumbles. As the light fades to an acceptable brightness, she sits up, head falling into her hands. She pulls on her bangs, her mind on the argument from the night before. Interpersonal connections. Expressing gratitude. Not acting like a bitch to those who help her. All items she tacks on to her list of things to work on. She drags herself to the closet, comparing her boots to the ones Carth left. His might be cleaner, but hers fit her well. She tugs them on, stuffing the bottoms of her pants inside. Ruffling a hand through her hair, she trudges to the door. It opens with a slight _whoosh_ , revealing a datapad just outside at her feet. She turns it over in her hands, scanning the short message displaying on the screen.

“ _Yours to use. Help yourself to whatever you need. I’ll be back before sundown._ ”

It would be better if he were still upset with her. Now there’s no anger to cover up her guilt. She grabs her backpack from the closet, dumping its contents on the floor before dropping the datapad inside. She pockets a handful of credits before tossing the bag on top of the pile in her closet. After a moment’s hesitation, she adds her lightsaber.

Taking Carth’s food after her actions last night feels wrong, but she helps herself to a glass of water before heading out. Making her way towards the turbolift as the door shuts, she realizes that she had basically locked herself out. She pauses before turning back. Not everything can be put off until later. The holoscreen blinks to life at her arrival.

“ _Welcome Kalyn Tora. Do you wish to enter?_ ” The voice indicates. Good. Carth had thought ahead of time and had her facial identification added. She steps away and the lights fade.

The turbolift ride is longer than she remembered. There are a few others that enter and exit, but none give her any lingering glances. It feels better to be out of Jedi robes. The thought brings a pang of guilt to her chest. _At least in public_ , she corrects.  At the entrance she downloads a city map and apartment listings to her datapad, finding the correct shuttle to take her to a nearby mall. There’s a surprising comfort in the crowds milling about the area. The ability to hide in plain sight calming rather than concerning.

She ducks into the nearest clothing shop, drifting among the racks of items with renewed energy. It’s obviously meant for retired soldiers - all earthy tones, thick layers, and functionality over fashion. She feels the fabrics as she goes along, picking sturdy, lasting garments. A few sleeved tops, slight ‘v’s in the neck, as was common with civilian wear. Underwear. Thick woolen socks. Several pairs of pants with heavy belt loops and deep pockets. A new pair of boots, not unlike her previous pair but thick, black, and steel-toed. A hooded jacket made of soft material, but resistant to water and acid.

There’s a small formal section near the register that forces Kalyn to pause. The garments look like outfits for award ceremonies and recognition events. She runs her hand along a few of the folded shirts. They’re beautiful, but well built. She can just barely detect the durasteel knitted into the fabric. It probably wouldn’t do much against blasters, but a vibroblade would bruise at worst against it. She picks the shirt up and holds it to the light. It’s black, with a wide neck, slimming in the arms and the waist, and shines slightly iridescent in the light from the armor. There’s no reason to want it. There’s to time she’d need it. She can’t even remember the last time she bought something not out of necessity. She adds it to her pile along with a deep violet pair of pants made out of the same fibers.

Her choices are fairly expensive, but she pays without hesitation. They’ll last a long time, and it’s time she start planning for the future. No more limping to a med station in search of an antidote. No more Gizkas roaming her ship because she looked past the poison in the shops. Okay, maybe that one she couldn’t’ve planned for. The shop owner, an old, grumpy-looking Ithorian, seems displeased about their top of the line items being shoved in a dirty old rucksack, but Kalyn ignores them.

By the time she leaves the store, it’s mid-afternoon. Her grumbling stomach reminding her of the last meal she had, she makes her way to the nearest food stand, purchasing an assortment of strangely colored fruit and some kind of glowing bread that fills her instantly. She watches the passerbys as she finishes her meal, sitting on a bench under a broad-leaved tree. Most of the residents are nonhuman, and seem to come from a wide range of races. A building in the distance looks familiar, and a quick check of her datapad confirms her suspicions that the inconspicuous apartment complex on the horizon contains the newly founded Jedi enclave. Carth’s words ring in her ears. She doesn’t want to disappear. She finds the nearest shuttle headed in that direction.

The entryway of the enclave looks no different to Carth’s apartment. Kalyn is greeted by the information desk assistant, a Twi’lek with deep maroon skin.

“Do you have an appointment?” They ask. Their friendly demeanor is lessened by their piercing ice blue eyes and lack of eyebrow tattoos. This is not someone interested in the comfort of other species. Their smile is dangerous and beautiful.

Kalyn feels a brush of presence against her mind. A cautious scope of her intentions. Those not sensitive to the Force would have felt nothing, and the Sith would have been detected in an instant. Kalyn avoided the Force for her time being on the _Ebon Hawk_ , each attempt bringing her visions of dead Jedi floating in tubes on the Star Forge. But this interaction is friendly. She reaches out, connects to the Twi’lek while looking them in the eyes. “I do.” She replies. _My name is Kalyn Tora. I seek entrance to the enclave._

The Twi’lek’s connection hums with pleasant excitement. “Excellent. I’ll buzz you through.” They press a few buttons on their console. _Thirteenth floor._ Kalyn sends a feather-light touch of gratitude before they disconnect. The area past the doors is eerie, and she welcomes the pleasant beeping of the maintenance droid that enters the turbolift with her. The doors open at the thirteenth floor and she steps off, seemingly into another world.

Her mind is flooded before her senses can adjust. Minds brush against her consciousness all at once, not intentionally, more like how she had drifted her hands through the fabric at the store that morning. She retreats, blocking her mind to the general public, giving herself a chance to see what she’s walking into. The entire area is bright and warm; they must have rigged the lighting system to filter in sunlight instead of the usual green-blue hue of the apartment lights. Most of the walls for individual apartments have been cleared away to create a large community area. A small fountain bubbles in the center, and creeping vines make their way up the walls to the high ceiling. Ferns adorn the floors amongst stained wooden benches, and the entire floorspace has been replaced with cobblestone. It’s surprisingly busy: Jedi chat, relax and meditate, wearing all types of clothing. Some have lightsabers, some couldn’t be distinguished from the civilians she saw at the mall. Her sense of unease fades. No nightmare-fueling confrontations. No Sith traps. She is alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces, but she is calm. She checks the holo screen ahead of her and heads to the training rooms.

It’s all about small steps. It’s okay to save interaction for another day. Today she can focus on training. The training areas are small, helpful for fast footwork and closed quarters. Kalyn tosses her bag to the corner of the room as the doors hiss shut and the training droid buzzes to life. The droid scans the room, then her body before proceeding.

“ _Initiating Sparring Session 001._ ” the droid chimes before falling into a ready stance. Kalyn activates her lightsaber, spinning it casually before situating her own posture. She attacks first. The droid begins by mostly blocking and evading, but after a few minutes begins to return strikes. It wields a shock blade, not meant to injure but definitely meant to hurt. Having a non-sentient as a dueling partner helps Jedi practice fighting without relying too heavily on the Force, which is welcoming in her case. Kalyn has had enough of the Force today. She craves automatic, primal actions. Attacking and evading. Pushing her body to its limits.

The hours pass with little attention. Only when the droid chimes “ _Completed Sparring Session 022. Would you like to continue?_ ” Does she pause to catch her breath. It probably would’ve been smart to change out of Carth’s clothes before she drenched herself in sweat, but there was no going back now. Deactivating the droid, she slings her backpack on and exits the training room. The lights in the enclave glow a golden yellow, possibly signaling the beginning sunset. Many of the Jedi have gone back to their rooms, but the air still buzzes with the calming flow of Force. She gives the enclave one last glance before descending in the turbolift.

The Twi’lek gives her mind a passing caress as she exits the building, checking for signs of deviation. Kalyn accepts the inquiry, feeling oddly open to the idea of someone accessing her mind. Probably from her workout. It’s a short shuttle back to the military base, and the sun is just beginning to touch the horizon by the time she reaches Carth’s door.

Attempting any kind of inconspicuous entry is useless. The holopad at the door announces her arrival as the door slides open. The only light shines in from the sunset, a bright full orange, and from the kitchen, lights at about 60%. Carth is on the balcony, a mug of caf in his hand. Kalyn pauses. She still isn’t used to him without armor. A threadbare shirt pulls tightly over his shoulder blades as he leans on the railing, sweatpants hung low on his hips. His attire helps little with her unease, their fight still fresh in her mind. He makes no motion to move while she makes her way to the bathroom, but she feels his eyes on her as she walks away. She showers quick, cursing herself when she realizes she hadn’t bought shampoo. _Next time make a list._ She reminds herself. A frustrated huff escapes her lips at the ridiculousness of adding ‘list making’ to her list of things to work on. After her shower she pauses again at her reflection, mostly noting her shaggy, untamed hair. She rifles through the drawers until she finds Carth’s clippers. She trims the sides short, but keeps the top long enough for her bangs to fall just short of her eyebrows. Carth’s clothes go in the dispenser, and she pulls on her first fully clean outfit in ages. He’s still outside when she passes through the living room, watching the sunset and sipping caf. Her Star Forge robes are folded on her bed. She pauses for a moment before tossing her backpack and her lightsaber on the bed and returning to the main area, where Carth is just coming inside.

He looks her over, taking a last sip from his mug. Kalyn sends her mind to his, cautious and shallow enough not to cause alarm. Feedback: Happy, presumably because she left the apartment. Relief...because she returned at all? Not so sure on this one. No signs of distaste or anger. Good. He doesn’t expect an apology and she wasn’t about to give him one. The whole situation feels childish looking back. There were bigger problems in the universe than stupid assumptions. She pulls a hand through her hair when the silence starts to become awkward.

“Dinner?” He suggests, passing her by to head to the kitchen. She follows.

“You don’t have to cook for me every night, you know.” She counters as he drops his mug in the dishwasher. “And fold my clothes for me.” He pauses, hand on the cabinet he had opened, gathering materials to cook with.

“The dispenser auto folds,” he explains, pulling a large pot and pan from the cabinet. “Are you offering to cook for me?” He turns away, towards the conservator, but she catches the bemused grin on his face.

“I can cook.” He pauses to turn back to her, eyebrows raised and grinning. “It can’t be hard.” He snorts, returning to the conservator. “I can’t just do nothing while you play housewife.”

He tosses a block of cheese her way. “Grate that.” He sets a couple of aqua-green vegetables on the counter and turns to fill the pot with water. She sends her mind out, slightly deeper this time. Feedback: Entertained. Glad they’re talking again.

Carth places a cheese grater and a cutting board on the counter before turning back to his other duties. The grater feels foreign in her hands as she gets to work. There’s a flash of memory. The enclave, before Revan. The advanced padawan were taught to operate small utensils like these with just the Force. She would watch in awe as they peeled fruit with knives, outer skin unfurling like silk ribbon from the white of the meat. They tasted sweeter after being peeled with the Force, but that was probably just her imagination.

Kalyn’s pulled into the present when she drags her knuckle across the grater. She curses, dropping the grate and the remaining block of cheese and sucking her knuckle into her mouth. Carth hasn’t noticed. Either that or he’s humoring her. She doesn’t check to make sure. He appears behind her shortly after, motioning for her to step aside so he can cut the vegetables. She stands back, still glaring at the grater. Little steps. She admits defeat, grabbing a beer from the conservator and retreating to her room. The sun has set, and the sky's a deep magenta, the lights of the city blinking to life. Her datapad is spilling out of her backpack, and she brings it back to the living room to check the apartment listings.

It turns out to be more difficult than she thought. No weapons. No military. No _Jedi_. Carth’s location of residence might’ve been less of his choice than she assumed. She gets it. No one wants to share a floor with someone who might get the whole place bombed if things go wrong. It doesn’t stop her from dropping the datapad none too lightly on the caf table and downing the rest of her beer. The sky is completely dark now. Quick sunsets on Telos, apparently.

“Lights, 60%,” she mumbles. The last thing she needs is Carth coming in the room as she sits in the dark pouting. The thought forces her from the armchair and back into the kitchen. He’s just started to spoon the pasta onto the plate. Rusty orange noodles which he covers in sautéed vegetables and spices, cheese generously sprinkled over the top.

“Didn’t realize Generals get special cooking classes” she muses as he passes her a plate. She grabs a couple beers and follows him to the living room.

“Admiral, actually.” They take their usual seats, Kalyn passing him a bottle.

“Ooh, a promotion.” Her voice thick with sarcasm. He chuckles to himself, twisting the pasta around his fork.

“Helping defeat a Sith Lord has its perks.” He twirls his fork in the air before putting it in his mouth. “But enough about _my_ day, what about you?”

“Just figuring shit out.” She decides not to tell him about the apartment situation. There’s gotta be some place with less restrictions. “I stopped by the enclave.” She focuses on her plate. Carth pauses. Feedback: Cautious. Doesn’t want this conversation to go like last night’s.

“How’d it go?” Neither of them are looking at each other. Kalyn exhales sharply through her nose. This is the worst. She’d rather have them fighting.

“It was fine.” Carth looks up at this. “I didn’t see anyone I knew I just…” She turns towards the window. “...did some training courses.” It’s weak. She regrets all her thoughts of ‘small steps’ earlier that day. This is pathetic.

“That’s great!” Kalyn’s still turned to the window. His sudden presence alarms her before she realizes it’s not a mental connection. He’s resting his hand on her knee, barely putting enough pressure to make her notice. She looks back at him. “I’m glad you went.” Her eyes flicker down to his hand, and he withdraws it quickly but steadily. The plates clink together lightly as he gathers their dishware to bring to the kitchen. He pauses by her chair. “I know it takes time to adjust.” She knows he means more than the enclave. The silence is heavy. Flashes of a double-bladed lightsaber dance behind her eyelids, the bright red burning into her retinas. Losing Bastila. Another thing she had put off to deal with later.

“It was no big deal.” She feigns ignorance at the double meaning of his statement. She hopes he understands. Feedback: Empathy. When he returns she’s finished her second beer. “You’ll have to teach me how to make that,” pointing with her chin to the kitchen.

“As long as you don’t slice your fingers off again.” _Force_. He saw that. He glances down to her datapad as she suppresses a blush, the alcohol humming behind her cheeks. “I have some novels if you wanna download them. There’s a port next to the tv.”  
“I’ll check them out.” She stands to recycle her bottle, pleasantly numb from the buzz.

“You know,” Carth begins. “If you decide to get up at a reasonable time tomorrow I can show you how to make breakfast.”

“Ha ha” Kalyn returns. After a pause, she adds “That would be nice.”

“See ya then.” He leaves to shower as she turns to the tv to check out his novels. History of the Republic. Famous military tactics. Survival stories, the typical ‘stranded on an uninhabited planet’ type. She downloads one about a prisoner of war making his way back home across the galaxy to his family. The connection doesn’t hit until she’s curled up in her bed, lights and windows dimmed low.

Kalyn wakes on the _Ebon Hawk_. Smoke floods the cabin. Bodies lay slumped, blood splaying the entirety of the floor. She makes her way to the exit ramp, hunched low to keep from breathing in too much smoke. The door is busted, and it lowers in jagged lurches, before collapsing to the ground. The sudden rush of air breathes life into the fires on the deck, and she tumbles out the door before the flares reach her. She coughs, tears in her eyes on her hands and knees. The ground is covered in ash, and it swirls around her like freshly fallen snow. Recognition of her fallen comrades floods her senses. A hand. A patch of fur. A chunk of armor. They’re all dead. The buzz of a lightsaber directs her attention in front of her.

“Bastila,” she breathes. She scrambles to her feet, ignoring the burning in her throat. A dream. Of course it’s a dream. But it feels too real to be just that.

“Revan,” Bastila’s voice is syrupy and poisonous. “I see you’re having fun playing house.”

“Revan is gone. My name is Kalyn.” A statement that comes out as pleading. Just the name makes her sick, especially seeing what it had turned Bastila into. Bastila’s skin is an ashy grey, and her eyes blaze bright yellow. “Why are you here?”

“Oh dear…” Bastila chides. “If you think killing me would keep me from you, you were mistaken. I still see darkness in you. My job isn’t done yet.” She takes a few paces to the side, like a wild cat stalking her prey. Kalyn keeps her distance.

“You can’t hurt me, this is a dream.” Doubt strikes through Kalyn’s heart. If this is a dream, why can she smell the smoke? Why can she feel the sweat breaking out on her skin?

“I think you’ll find me to be very, very real.” The lightning hits Kalyn before she can react. She’s thrown to the ground, senses scrambled and gasping for air. “Remember this, Revan? This is your power. Passed from you to Malak, and Malak to me.” Another shock of lightning. Kalyn is on the verge of passing out. Dreams shouldn’t hurt like this. Her breath hitches in her throat. She lies at Bastila’s feet, frozen in place. “Your weak Jedi powers won’t work here. Give in, Revan. Unlock your potential again. There is only pain and misery down the path you follow.” Bastila leans down, pressing Kalyn’s shoulder into the ground with her boot to keep Kalyn from moving. Kalyn’s chest is heaving, eyes wide with fear. Bastila sighs in mock-sympathy, cupping Kalyn’s cheek before sending another shock into Kalyn’s mind. Kalyn opens her mouth and screams. She doesn’t stop until she runs out of breath.

Her eyes snap open with her next breath. It’s dark. Has she gone blind? A hand grips her shoulder, holding her down, while another cups her cheek. Panic floods her system, freezing her on the spot.

“Kalyn, come on….wake up…” The hand on her face is warm. Her head throbs as she shudders another breath, face wet with tears and sweat. “That’s it...just breathe…lights, 10%.” Her eyes keep closing on her, but she can make out Carth’s face through her slow blinking. She unclenches her hand from the sheets to grip his wrist.

“Bastila…” The attempt at speaking knocks the air out of her lungs immediately, and she stops to take another shaky breath. Her eyes are wide open, but there are spots in her vision. She’s on the brink of consciousness.

“Shhh….” Carth tries to retract his hand, but Kalyn’s grip doesn’t loosen. He stays kneeling, hand hovering beside her face where she holds it. His thumb passes over her cheek. A whisper of thought crosses her mind to let go of him, but it seems her body has focused all its effort to keeping her breathing. She can’t feel her eyes closing, but the black spots grow greater until she can’t see anything. Her mind goes offline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all pretend I know what Telos looks like, because it's definitely not this.


	3. Chapter 3

Consciousness seeps in shortly after dawn. Kalyn squints her eyes open. She’s facing the window, arm hanging over the side of the bed. The sky is a grey blue, the sun rising from the other side of the building.

“Windows, 0%” The morning light fills her room. Her voice is ragged and her throat burns at the short phrase. There’s a glass of water placed on the nightstand, presumably left by Carth. _Carth._ Suddenly the memories from last night fill her brain. How long had he stayed by her side? What even _happened_ to her last night? It was no dream, that was for certain. She avoids getting up for as long as possible, watching the sky slowly change color. When her thirst grows too insistent to avoid, she sits up, taking the glass in her hands. They’re shaking. She tries a dry swallow. It feels like she’s been force choked. She takes the water in small sips. When it’s gone she goes to the closet to get dressed. She pulls the hooded sweatshirt over a sleeveless top. The fabric is soft and comforting. Another deep breath. She heads down the hallway.

Carth is reading a datapad, sitting in the chair in the living room. The sleeves of his Republic uniform are bunched up around his biceps, revealing a myriad of scars across his forearms. Blaster fire welts. Vibroblade slices. She can tell them apart from one another like she was the one who inflicted them. He glances up, setting the datapad on the table, a small smile on his face.

“There’s tea in the kitchen.” He murmurs. Kalyn gives a small nod. The tea is warm and smells of herbs and flowers. She sits cross-legged on the couch, kiddie-corner to Carth. The first sip is barely too hot, but it feels good on her throat. The thought that Carth must have made tea instead of caf this morning just for her crosses her mind. He reaches to set his mug on the table, and that’s when she sees it: several half-moon cuts in his wrist. Fingernail marks. Hers. He catches her eye.

“Carth….” Her voice has improved significantly from her first words that morning, but they still sound broken. Her hands tighten around her mug.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse.” He replies, making a gesture to the scars that adorn his arms. It doesn’t help. “You doing alright?”

Kalyn scoffs. A ridiculous query. “It wasn’t a dream…” His gaze is unwavering. “Parts of it felt so real.” She recognizes the feeling. “Like when I saw the Star Maps.” Carth sighs heavily, clearly troubled with this connection. Silence falls as she takes another sip of tea. He glances back to his datapad. She doesn’t dare check his mind. She wants nothing to do with the force right now. His datapad is flashing an incoming message. “You have work to do.”

“It’s nothing.” A lie. “It’s not important.” Getting better. “It can wait. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I think I need to speak with the council. This doesn’t feel right.” His hand twitches, like he wants to reach out but decides against it last minute. Kalyn leans down to catch his gaze from its position at the edge of the table. “Thank you. It means a lot.” Apologies are not her strong suit, yet she seems to be doling them out in spades. He smiles.

“I’ll give you my commlink codes. I’m here if you need me.” Carth’s eyes crinkle with his grin. He looks like he’s running on no sleep. His five o’clock shadow is on the edge of actual beard, and his hair looks like it’s been rinsed at best. Kalyn had been unconscious, yes, but she feels like she spent the last few hours sprinting. He grabs his mug, sitting back in his chair. It’s a pathetic attempt at calm. His fingers drum on the ceramic, leg bouncing slightly.

“Go on. Get going.” She urges, pushing at his knee with her foot. He’s done enough already, she can figure it out from here. He looks as if he’s about to protest. She stands, waving her empty mug in front of him. “I’m going to get another cup of tea, and you better not be here when I get back.”

He smiles. “Yes ma'am,” sending her a mock salute as she leaves the room. He’s gone by the time she passes through the living room, but the holoscreen on the wall blinks a sequence of numbers: Carth’s commlink. Back in her room, she slips her lightsaber in her pocket, the datapad in the other. She pockets a handful of credits before lacing up her boots. Her commlink is banged up, but it blinks on after the second try. She punches in his ID before pocketing it as well. The ride to the enclave is a blur. She spends the time swallowing thickly and running her fingers over her lightsaber. The Twi’lek is still at the front desk. There’s a hint of alarm when they reach out to her, stray panic scattered across her consciousness like a minefield. Kalyn bares her mind. _I need to speak to Master Vandar._ The Twi’lek gives her a knowing look before opening the doors, sending a wave of encouragement before they disconnect.

Their interaction gives Kalyn renewed energy. She sends her mind into the enclave when she exits the turbolift, searching for the Master Jedi. She gets a few startled looks, alarmed from the confusion and anxiety radiating about her. They retreat from her consciousness with caution. She finds Master Vandar in a room opposite of the training rooms. The doors open to a similar layout, except the area is filled with huge succulents, a small river circling the perimeter of the room.

“Kalyn Tora.” Vandar’s tone suggests he expected her. He gestures to the area adjacent to where he’s sitting, and she joins him, crossing her legs as she sits. Both of them face the waterfall on the back wall. “I felt your presence yesterday. You were with us, were you not?”

“Only for a bit.” His expression doesn’t change. “It’s still hard. Coming back to all of this.”

“You speak with honesty, but that is not the reason you came today” She appreciates his ability to get straight to the point. It’s rare among Jedi.

“I had a dream.” She begins. “At least I thought it was a dream. It felt so real.”

“Show me.” This catches her off guard. Sharing memories always proved difficult to her. “I will assist.” After a pause she turns to him. He holds out his hands, and she rests hers on top of them. Vandar connects with her mind, but this feels stronger than any connection she’s made before. Like the formation of a tunnel rather than the simple clasping of hands. He reaches into her consciousness, brushing through memories. He pauses at her interaction with Carth after the dream and the connection falters with her hesitation. _Calm, young one,_ Vandar reassures after ghosting over the memory. He watches the dream while Kalyn sits idle. It’s similar to someone watching a film in another room. She can hear whispers, slight emotions, but very muted and dark.

When the dream ends Vandar pulls his mind from hers. Kalyn shudders. The bond was warm, comforting. Connections like those are probably used sparingly, she imagines there must be problems with disconnecting too harshly, or after too long of a time together. Vandar retracts his hands, clasping them in front of himself as he opens his eyes.

“Troubling indeed…” He comments. “The first time dreams like this have come about, yes?”

“I’ve had nightmares,” Kalyn replies with surprising candidness. “But nothing like this. Is this a sign? How should I proceed?” Vandar turns back to the waterfall with an aggravating lethargy, leaving Kalyn facing his side.

“I cannot determine the correct path.” He concludes. “More information is needed. What you saw was too brief.” Of course. Too many questions and Jedi shut down. The only available option now was twenty questions, Jedi edition.

“You’re saying I should connect with her again?” Kalyn tries. “On my own terms?”

“Bastila’s bond with you runs deep.” Vandar explains. “Do as the Force guides you.” A Jedi phrase that commonly meant ‘make up your own damn mind,’ as far as Kalyn’s concerned. Vandar stands, a dramatic gesture if she wasn’t still taller than him while seated. “Use this room as you feel.” Maybe Vandar is more cryptic than she had thought. Kalyn can’t tell if he thinks the Force will truly guide her or if he didn’t actually believe her vision was all that bad. Either way, she has the time and space to meditate on it.

Kalyn moves to the side of the room so that the waterfall is to one side and the doors the other. Cross legged, she closes her eyes, imagining the room just as it lies before her. She remembers this training, having to spend hours in a room trying to imagine what was in front of her. To visualize everything without focusing too hard on any one item. It was the true test of opening one’s mind: awareness without motive, an unbiased perception.

The room lay before her closed eyes. Kalyn listens to the soft trickles of water, focusing only on what was in front of her. It was frustrating, learning how to meditate. Being told not to seek the answers to your questions was confusing if not impossible to a young padawan. _“If the Force commends it, it shall be.”_ More Jedi lingo. But at least she knew it works.

The door to the room opens with a soft _hiss_. Bastila enters, clad in her usual dark robes. She mirrors Kalyn’s stance, cross legged with her hands on her thighs. Her form is just barely translucent, her movements almost too fluid. It’s the only thing reminding Kalyn that this is all in her head.

“I torture you to the brink of death, yet you welcome me into your mind?” Bastila says. “I have to admit, I did not foresee this.”

“You have no power here.” Kalyn replies. She doesn’t know it’s true until she says it. “You are unarmed. I am here to talk.” Bastila sends her a glare, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“If you plan on interrogation, it won’t work. I have nothing to gain from indulging you, and nothing to lose from staying silent.”

Kalyn is surprisingly calm. Perhaps it’s the claim that Bastila can’t hurt her here, or Vandar’s elusive confidence, or even the stupid waterfall on the side of the wall. “A compromise. For every question I ask, you may ask one yourself. You have the right to withhold your answers, as do I.”

“Very well.” Bastila sneers, amused with the whole charade.

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing from you?” Kalyn begins. “I spent weeks on the _Ebon Hawk_ after Malak’s fall.”

“Your time with the Republic was honorable, in your sense, but your darkness has a way of crawling back in. I seized the opportunity when I could. No amount of parties and dedications can keep you from falling, Revan.” Kalyn squints her eyes at Bastila. She may be answering Kalyn’s questions, but there’s no discerning the validity of them. “My turn. Did you plan on leaving Telos when the Republic stopped keeping tabs on your ship?” Kalyn looks away, and Bastila huffs out a laugh. “Pathetic.”

“If I had turned to the dark side, and sought revenge on Malak...” Bastila’s smile fades, suddenly interested. Her body seems to become clearer, the rest of the room growing fuzzy for a moment. “Would you have stayed as my apprentice?”

Bastila smiles. “For the moment. A Sith Lord you are, Revan, but you stand a fraction of what you once were. I would have overthrown you in a matter of time.”  Bastila wastes no time moving to her next question. “My turn. Where are you. Who’s company do you keep?”

Kalyn glares. Bastila is trying to find her. This explains the sudden warping of the room. This vision is getting more and more dangerous the longer they are connected. “I am among friends. Where are you?”

At this point Bastila stands. “Why don’t I show you?” The room shifts. Suddenly an icy blast of air washes over Kalyn’s body. She jumps to her feet as the room focuses into place. Darkness. The cold chill of space. Bastila stands at the bridge of a Star Destroyer. Her form is solid and steady. This is real, somehow. “We’re not far. It’s only a matter of time, and we _will_ find you, Revan.” Bastila springs towards her. Kalyn jumps back, but Bastilla catches her wrist, cackling mercilessly. The room is spinning, Bastilla’s grip searing cold into Kalyn’s skin. Her laugh is deafening. Kalyn summons all her strength and _pulls_. Bastila’s grip falters, and Kalyn is shocked into the present. Her eyes fly open, revealing the room just as it was before.

Kalyn runs. Jedi startle around her at the frantic state of her mind as she sprints down the hall, casting her thoughts to Vandar. She finds him exiting a room at the end of a hallway.

“Master Vandar! It’s-” She is cut off with the wave of his hand.

“I have felt echos.” Vandar walks past her, quick on his feet for such small stature. Kalyn trails behind, mind racing. “We must contact the Republic. You have Admiral Onasi’s commlink codes, yes?”

“How did you-”

“I chose the memories I needed, no more.” Vandar stops in front of a larger set of doors. “Tell the Admiral we intercepted a transmission and will send them full coordinates momentarily. The council will decipher your message.” Before he enters the room, where Jedi sit in a ring of chairs, centered around a large holoscreen, he turns back to Kalyn. “Your assistance is appreciated, Kalyn.”

The doors shut, leaving Kalyn outside with several concerned Jedi. They quickly exit the scene, not wanting to be caught up in whatever she found herself in. Kalyn fishes around in her pockets until she finds her commlink.

“Carth.” She breathes into the speaker once the signal is established.

“ _Kalyn? What’s wrong? Are you alright?_ ” Carth replies in quick succession.

“More or less,” she says. “The Jedi council has intercepted a transmission coming from a Star Destroyer headed towards Telos. They’re still decoding the transmission, but they’ll send coordinates as soon as they have them. Master Vandar asks to ready your troops.”

“ _If what you’re saying is true, I need to speak with him._ ” Carth falls into protocol. “ _We’ve had nothing picked up on our signals, and the Republic doesn’t have a direct link with the enclave._ ”

Kalyn looks to the closed door to the council room. “I can’t give you that,” she admits. “But speak through me. I can tell you what you need.” The thought frustrates her. There has to be something more that she can do. Vandar can’t just take her memories and run with them.

“ _You’re not telling me something._ ” Carth states. “ _Why would you know about the transmission?_ ” Kalyn bites her lip. No doubt the validity of this interception would be in question if the Republic knew how they actually found it.

“Is this link private?” She glances around. This conversation is too exposed. A pointless worry, but it’s out of fear that the surrounding Jedi would exploit her visions. Old habits die hard.

“ _Yes. Kalyn what is going on?_ ” His voice grows in volume. Shit. The military version of panic. Kalyn lets out a long sigh.

“I had a vision. I was meditating on Bastila’s appearance in my dream and she told me about the attack.” It sounds ridiculous. Telling non-Force sensitive individuals this stuff was always tedious. She didn’t realize how much she appreciated being understood verbatim with the fellow Jedi, as ridiculous as it sounds. What the Jedi lacked in verbal directness they made up in mental understanding.

“ _Kalyn._ ” Carth’s voice is muffled. He must have left whatever space he was in to talk more candidly. “ _You’re telling me I’m preparing my troops for battle because you had a kriffing_ daydream _-_ ”

“It was a vision!” Kalyn snaps. They don’t have time to be arguing. “I can tell the difference!” She would’ve seemed more sure if she hadn’t spent the previous night battling nightmares. Ones she was convinced were more than dreams. “If Master Vandar thinks we have to act then we have to take this seriously. Carth, please, you have to believe me.” There’s silence on the other end. Kalyn feels nauseous with anticipation.

“ _Report back with coordinates._ ” Carth’s voice is indeterminable. “ _Expect Republic reinforcements._ ” Relief washes over Kalyn. She leans up against the wall, pulling on her bangs and rubbing her face. This is too much, too soon. She flinches away from the wall when the doors to the council room slide open. Several races of Jedi exit. Most are human, but among them are a couple Twi’leks, a Selkath, and even a Togruta. Kalyn catches a familiar face.

“Master Vrook.” She says. Vrook approaches her, neutral expression save for his furrowed brow. What little hair he has left has gone completely white. He looks tired. The fall of Dantooine weighs heavy on him.

“I have heard you’ve revealed yourself to us.” He smiles, although with his stern expression still in place, it’s an odd image. Vandar joins the two as the last Jedi exit the council room, giving a brief nod to the fellow Master. “I request your commlink, Kalyn.” Vrook holds his hand out, and Kalyn deposits the device into his palm with little hesitation. “You will assist Master Vandar. I must contact the Republic.” With a swish of his robes, Vrook disappears back into the council room, doors sliding shut quickly behind him. So much for a reunion.

“Assist?” Kalyn turns to Vandar, who is already walking back towards the meditation room. He stays silent until the doors are shut within the room, where he turns in the center of it to face her.

“Your premonition intrigues the council.” Vandar begins.

“What does Bastila mean by ‘we’?” Kalyn regrets her offhand comment before she’s finished speaking. It’s like every time she ends up in front of a Master she reverts to a child. Wide eyed, speaking rashly, asking too many questions. The thought frustrates her, which doesn’t help her imagined childish portrayal.

“You must understand this.” Vandar’s voice takes on a grave tone. Kalyn’s stepped out of line. She clasps her hands behind her back, feeling small. “Bastila is dead. However, someone is using her for their own purposes.”

“What does that-” Vandar turns away before she can finish. He sits, facing the waterfall again. She quickly takes his side, mirroring his position.

“You remember what happens when sentients die, correct?” Kalyn turns towards him, although he does not meet her eye. There’s no time for this. There’s a literal Sith battleship headed their way and Vandar would rather discuss the circle of life with her. She opens her mouth to voice her feelings, but yields. Jumping into battle too quickly, against the wishes of the council, is the reason she fell in the first place. It’s a path she has to avoid at all costs. She turns to the waterfall.

“We become one with the Force.” She replies. She can see Vandar’s smile from the corner of her eye.

“Correct. But you are aware there are ways of keeping individuals from ascending.” Kalyn closes her eyes. Yes. The Jedi from Dantooine. Floating lifelessly in their cells on the Star Forge. Not quite alive, but not dead either. Empty husks to be used when Malak pleased.

“Someone has Bastila.” Kalyn concludes, opening her eyes. Vandar nods slowly. “And you want me to find out who.”

“Her captor does not matter.” Vandar replies. “You must help Bastila ascend. Only then will she be free to become one with the Force. Her soul is tainted. It is up to you to cleanse it.” Kalyn lowers her gaze.

“I couldn’t save her.” The hairs on her arms stand on end, as if Bastila’s lightning was preparing to strike again. “I can’t save her. She has fallen too far.”

“I believe there is a version of yourself who would have thought the same thing about yourself.”  Her stomach does a flip. “You’ve done it before. You saved Juhani.” Kalyn’s thoughts go to the young Cathar, begging for Kalyn to take her life, as she had her master’s. Juhani didn’t believe she could be saved either. It took Kalyn’s mercy to make Juhani see the light.

“Juhani was _alive_.” Vandar seems to be forgetting that critical point.

“It can be done.” He gets to his feet, Kalyn turning frantically on her spot so that she sits at his feet, facing him. “I know we ask much of you.”

“I don’t even know where to start.” She admits, trying to hide the waver in her voice.

“Seek her out. Learn what you can, and help her forgive.” He moves to exit the room, Kalyn staying in place. “She will be on the ship. Contact me, and I will connect with you to aid our Republic allies. May the Force be with you.” The doors shut decisively. She pulls her hands through her hair. They’re asking too much. It’s the only thing she can do to help, and it’s too much for her.

Kalyn sits back into position, legs crossed underneath her, as she exhales a shaky breath. It can be done. Not only that, but it _has_ to be done. Without her help, the Republic is unaided, and their troops fall. She closes her eyes, emptying her mind.

_I’m here, Bastila. I’m coming for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finishes the chapter.  
> Realizes I have to write a battle scene.  
> Obscenities abound.


	4. Chapter 4

This time she does not wait. Kalyn stretches her mind, trying to find the ship Bastila commands. She spent only a brief moment on the bridge she’s attempting to recreate, and she clings to any spare detail she can recall. The _whirr_ of the ventilation system. The dimmed lights glowing against the metal hull. Slowly the vision falls into place, surroundings appearing before her like plumes of smoke before they take shape.

It feels like she’s been submerged in ice water. She’s there, in the cold reaches of space, on the bridge. It’s empty, save for Bastila, who sits in the center, facing away, towards the windows. The ship’s armada lies ahead, making lazy circles in their flight, adjusting course with the slightest precision. Bastila’s battle meditation. The ability to control the flow of war. It was a dangerous and powerful ability, no doubt the reason she was here. Time must have shifted forward, Telos IV already on the horizon, a scattering of fighter planes forming in front of them: Republic vessels, waiting for the signal to attack.

“For someone who seemed unhappy with our reunion...” Bastila begins. “You seem quite eager for an audience with me.” Kalyn stands, fingers twitching towards her lightsaber hidden in her pocket. She yields.

“I came to talk.” Bastila scoffs, standing to face Kalyn. The armada is unaffected by her shift in concentration, slowly beginning its descent amongst the Republic troops, red flashes of blaster fire firing from both sides. Bastila’s battle meditation has grown since their last encounter. It no longer requires her full attention. Their ship hangs behind, looming ominously out of the reaches of battle.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to say to you.” Bastila replies. “I’m through playing games. I have a mission to complete.”

“ _Why_?!” Bastila’s grimace falters, seemingly surprised by Kalyn’s outburst. “You have nothing left! Why must you continue to pursue the Jedi?” A shiver passes through Kalyn. The cold seems to sink into her skin. She might as well be wearing rags. Bastila glares, sending another chill through Kalyn.

“Because they betrayed me!” Bastila counters. Kalyn takes a step back as Bastila advances. “I spent my _life_ serving the Jedi! _Years_ being told that I was _special_ and that I was _loved_ when it was all just to turn me into some kind of _weapon!_ ” The lights on the bridge flicker as the air fills with static. Bastila stops in front of Kalyn, hands fisted at her sides, eyes to the floor. “And I had doubt. Standing over your body when they told me to erase every part that made you _you_ , but I was convinced it was the right thing to do, that these were extreme circumstances and it had to be done.” Her gaze flicks up to Kalyn. She’s inches away, yellow eyes glowing while the air fizzes and pops around her. “I never even considered that that’s just what the Jedi _do!_ They take you in - people like us - and they mold you how they want, all the while believing you have some kind of _choice_.” The ship is shaking, the energy Bastila commands growing unstable. The ships outside are beginning to lose their formation.

Kalyn closes her eyes. Doubt. She had felt it as well. When Bastila stood with her and Carth, on the _Leviathan_ , her world unraveling around her at the realization that _she_ was Darth Revan. She had felt like a fool: manipulated by the Jedi to fulfil their wishes, turning their greatest enemy against them. But it had been her decision, not the Jedi council’s, to rescue Bastila and Zalbaar on Taris. It had been her actions, not some forged memory, that had saved Juhani from the dark side.

She meets Bastila’s eyes. “There’s _always_ a choice.”

Bastila takes a step back, eyeing Kalyn suspiciously. “You would choose to be a slave for the Jedi?” The ship stops shaking with her newfound calm.

“I would choose to do what I can for the greater good.” Kalyn catches a glimpse of the console behind Bastila: the command center. Battle plans. Ammunition stats. Vital information that she needs access to. Her gaze flickers back to Bastila.

“The _greater good?_ ” Bastila scoffs. “Good is relative. There is no good in war.”

“But this?” Kalyn gestures to the rest of the ship. “You honestly think _this_ is the better of the two?” She steps to the side, trying to find a way around Bastila, who mirrors her movement.

“Enough!” The lights flicker again, familiar energy buzzing through the air. Bastila takes a step backwards, towards the console. “I refuse to be deceived again. Perhaps I wasn’t clear the first time. Your path will only bring you pain and weakness,” her lightsaber flies to her hand from the other side of the room. “And if I must be the messenger, so be it.”

Both lightsabers power on at the same time, and Bastila’s hits Kalyn’s with a shower of sparks. The ship shakes, Bastila’s battle meditation weakening with every blow. Kalyn tries to shift her position so that she’s near the console, but Bastila won’t budge. Kalyn blocks a low swipe as the top blade of Bastila’s saber slices through the bridge’s ceiling, shooting sparks as metal and wiring rain down from the ceiling. Kalyn takes the moment to shove against Bastila’s lightsaber, sending her backwards into the wall. Kalyn makes her way to the console, Bastila closely behind.

One glance is all it takes. Vandar’s presence appears in the back of her mind, pulling the images displaying the Star Destroyer’s information from her head. Bastila lets out a yell, slicing her lightsaber through the air. Kalyn dodges as the blade tears through the console, the lights on the ship flickering out. The fighter planes outside are in disarray, slowly being surrounded by the Republic fleet. They work in perfect synchronization, a flurry of explosions appearing around the Sith ship.

Bastila and Kalyn stand in the darkness, only light emitting from their weapons. Kalyn can see her breath, chilled to the bone despite the heat of battle. The explosions and blaster fire pattern the sky adjacent to the two of them like fireworks. The Republic is winning. The Sith fighters retreat.

“This fight is over.” Kalyn retracts her lightsaber, now in complete darkness save for the angry red glow of Bastila’s weapon.

“Search your feelings, you can’t find that true.” Bastila’s saber powers off. There’s no shift in the fight outside the windows. The tide of battle is lost. “We’ll meet again, Revan.”

An icy chill rakes through her body as Kalyn is stripped from her place on the ship. She awakens with a shuddering gasp, the lights from the meditation room blinding compared to the darkness of space. The air in the room is warm, but it has no affect on her body. She’s chilled to her core. It feels like she left a part of her on that ship. She makes to stand, but the strength is gone from her legs, and she falls to her knees. The doors slide open and Vandar is at her side.

“You have done well.” She can feel energy flow from where his hand rests on her shoulder through her body. It doesn’t do anything to her chill, but she stops shaking. She pushes her bangs out of her eyes, sitting up straighter. “We couldn’t have stopped them without your battle meditation, although I am surprised you possess this ability.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He must be mistaken. All she did was stop Bastila’s, she couldn’t use it herself. “You were there, you took their information from me.”

“Battle meditation takes many forms, each unique to its user.” He retracts his arm to sit beside her. “If my presence was how your path was revealed to you, so be it. But know this: I received no contact from you. The shifting tide of battle was your doing.” Kalyn thinks back to that moment, where she was sure Vandar had been there. It had been a familiar presence, true, but upon second thought, the only similarity was how strong the bond felt. The sudden change in control. It had been her after all.

“There was a command console…” Vandar nods.

“Some see maps. Others give the fleet direct commands. The only thing that matters is that you recognize what creates that connection.” Kalyn opens her mouth to speak, but he raises his hand to stop her. “You have been through much, young Jedi. Take this time to rest. We will discuss this later.” He waits for her to rise before they leave the room, headed back towards the council room. The hallways are empty. The lights of the enclave burn a dusty orange. It must be close to sunset. Another shift in time. How many hours has it been since the battle ended? The warm lighting does nothing for her chill, and she shudders at the cold sweat her meditation left her in. They stop in front of the turbolift, Vandar passing back her commlink. Kalyn is disappointed she doesn’t get a chance to speak with Vrook, but accepts it none the less, rubbing it absentmindedly with her thumb.

“The admiral,” Vandar turns his head towards her, nodding at the commlink in her hand. “He wishes for your presence.” Kalyn colors slightly, surprised. She puts the device away hastily.

“How-”

“It matters not the distance,” he explains, looking back to the doors. “I feel his concern. He is a valuable ally.”

“He is a skilled soldier.” She comments, not sure where this conversation is leading. Vandar remains stoic at her response.

“It’s best you begin surrounding yourself with those you trust.” Kalyn turns to the doors as well, impatient with the turbolift as well as this conversation. “And not only on the battlefield.”

The doors open before she can think of a response, and she leaves the enclave with Vandar’s words ringing in her mind. The sun has set by the time she reaches the shuttle. She takes off her sweatshirt, sticky with sweat and not helping warm her much anyways, and bunches it up in her crossed arms. It’s cool outside, making her bare arms go numb. The shuttle is empty, no doubt some kind of emergency curfew in operation. She sees no one on her trip from the enclave to Carth’s apartment. It almost feels like a different realm, like this is the dream, and the battleship was the real world.

The door chimes her arrival. The lights are dimmed, and for a moment, she thinks she’s alone. She catches movement in the living room, and Carth appears in the hallway.

“Kalyn?” His voice breaks the silence that had formed around her since her exit from the enclave. He’s out of his Republic uniform, dressed in a faded t-shirt and loose fitting pants. “I kept asking Master Vrook where you were...they weren’t giving me any answers…” He steps closer, eyebrows knitted in concern.

She has no idea how long she had sat in that room. Her fight with Bastila had been fairly short; she must have lost time somewhere before and after her meditation. She shivers. Vandar’s healing is wearing off. What does she even say? So much has happened in the last few hours. She feels miserable. Her head aches, and her joints feel stiff and sore.

“Are you alright? You don’t look so good.” Carth tries again, bringing his hand to rest on her shoulder. She lets out a gasp at the touch. “Kalyn, you’re _freezing._ ” He raises both hands to her shoulders. His skin is burning compared to hers. He might as well be touching marble. She huffs out a laugh, overwhelmed by the warmth seeping into her skin. She avoids his gaze.

“How are you that much warmer than me.” Her voice is breathy and too quiet for her liking. “You were the one actually _in space_ .” He makes to move his hands away, but she leans into his touch, her voice catching before she says something embarrassing. Like _don’t let go_ or _please stay_.

“Come here,” he pulls her into his arms, hands sliding across her shoulders and to the small of her back. She covers her face with her hands and sighs, thoroughly humiliated. But _Force_ , this feels so nice. It’s grounding, especially after so much time she’s spent in meditation, in in-between worlds. They stand in silence for a moment. She briefly wonders if Carth is Force sensitive, for the heat from his body is working just as Master Vandar’s healing had. Her shivers disappear. Kalyn breathes evenly.

“What happened?” He asks. She can’t see his face, even when she withdraws her hands to rest them lightly on his chest. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, looking just over his shoulder at the city lights outside the window.

“It’s nothing.” A lie. “I was meditating.” Getting better. “I was basically sitting in a box for the whole battle, Carth, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.” He pulls away slightly, hands going to her arms. She lets him this time, her body finally reaching a normal temperature. His thumbs rub circles in her arms absentmindedly.

“To be fair, I didn’t see much action either.” Carth admits. “The larger warships stay behind the fleet.” He catches her eye. Winks. “Just a bigger box.” Kalyn smirks.

“I saw Bastila again.” She continues. “Master Vandar’s convinced that I can shift her Force to the light, but I’m not so sure. I also know battle meditation? It’s different than what I imagined it would be like, I didn’t even know I was doing it.” She’s rambling. She looks up and catches Carth’s befuddled look.

“Um…” He starts. “We can talk about it? I’m gonna be honest the whole Force thing is beyond me.” He scratches the back of his neck, other arm falling to his side. “But the other stuff…”  Carth steps to the side, allowing Kalyn to pass him by into the living room. She takes a seat on the couch, and he joins her without comment, sitting close enough so that their arms touch, Kalyn welcoming the warmth. They sit in comfortable silence for a moment. There are so many questions she could ask. If they recognized the ship. Where it came from. Where it retreated to.

“How many casualties,” the question comes out more as a statement as she runs her hands over the sweatshirt she holds in her lap.

“Thirty two,” Carth responds. He faces straight ahead, looking out the window.

“Did you know them?” She glances his way until he looks back. “Can you remember who they were?”

“Every one.” He looks haunted. An Admiral rank probably kills him on the inside. To be forced to stay back while his soldiers put their lives on the line.

“How do you do it?” The question is understood. How do you manage? How do you stay sane when your actions directly influence the life or death of another?

“You remember their names. And you keep moving forward.” Carth’s expression is impassive. Kalyn sends his mind to his, shallow and cautious. It’s oddly barren. Numb to emotion. An aftermath of recent battle. She tries to mimic what the Twi’lek at the reception desk had done with her, sending a wave of warmth and reassurance. His eyes widen a bit, and she smiles. His consciousness seems to grasp at hers, desperate to hold onto whatever bits of calm it can find.

“It must be hard to do,” she gently retracts her mind.

Feedback, before the connection breaks: _What_ was _that?_

“You’re brave.” Carth is unresponsive, probably still confused about the brief mental connection. She can’t blame him, still leaning against his arm. “We should probably get to sleep.” Kalyn comments. Carth nods, and they both stand. She wants to thank him, but she’s used the words so many times that they feel stale in her mind. She sends another wave of warmth his way, and a flash of confusion crosses his face.

“Let me know if you need anything.” Carth comments, still absent minded. She gives him a nod, and they depart to their separate bedrooms. Kalyn wraps herself in the blankets, frustrated when they don’t warm her nearly as much as Carth’s arms had. She tries not to think too hard on it. What she really needs is rest. She drifts off to sleep once her shivers cease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch me bullshit my way through Battle Meditation~~~


	5. Chapter 5

Kalyn wakes unrested before dawn. The entire night she had spent tossing and turning, her desire to finally get some rest in conflict with finding Bastila in her dreams. The result was a few hours of an agitated offline state, hardly to be considered sleep. She’s still cold, although not as much as yesterday. The heat is slowly returning to her system. If the way her hair stuck around her face hadn’t given her any indication, she was well in need of a shower. A warm one. She perks up at the idea. 

The lights are off in the living room as she makes her way through the dark to the bathroom. Carth’s door is closed. He must still be asleep. The bathroom lights are bright, and she fumbles her way to the shower with squinted eyes. She sets the temperature to higher than usual, letting the hot water fill the room with steam. As she stands, she sends her mind to Carth’s. 

Feedback: offline. Better than nightmares, Kalyn figures. How he manages to stay so cool under pressure has always been lost to her. Thinking back to the way his mind had felt last night, there might be more to it than that. There were no stray thoughts, no emotions. What if he could block his thoughts? His consciousness was not unlike those who have been trained to keep prying minds out. But he had seemed confused, if not surprised at Kalyn’s interactions. And his consciousness had called out to hers, just as she had leaned into his touch. 

She groans, hating herself for being so melodramatic. Her hands have grown pruny, and she washes herself quickly. Carth had refilled his shampoo, a sign she takes meaning she doesn’t have to go buy her own. She glances in the mirror as she wraps a towel around herself. Dark circles under her eyes. Slightly paler skin than usual. Yet somehow she feels better off than when she had arrived a few days ago. 

In the living room Kalyn pauses to look out on the city. The sun must be beginning to rise, golden light glinting off of the buildings facing her, illuminating the room. She looks around, taking in her surroundings for what seems like the first time. A small bookcase sits behind the armchair, adorned with x-wing models and assorted off-world trinkets. A leafy indigo-colored plant takes up the corner close to the window, opposite the holoscreen. Must be fake. She can’t imagine Carth taking care of a plant, although until recently she couldn’t imagine him cooking either. Probably a gift he couldn’t bring himself to throw away. There are photo frames up on the wall next to the screen, from his academy days. Kalyn recognizes a few of the members with dread. They had been aboard the _Leviathan_ when they had taken down Admiral Karath. Karath stands next to Carth in the frame, hand on his shoulder and looking proud. She grits her teeth. There is always a choice. And with every choice, there are consequences. 

A flurry of emotions bloom across her consciousness. Surprise, confusion, _attraction_. They’re Carth’s; she hadn’t realized she was still connected to his mind. Kalyn turns her head, glancing back to where he stands in the hallway. He’s shirtless, wearing the same sweatpants she had seen him in before, hair in disarray and in need of a shave. His body bares less marks than his arms do, but there are a few. A vibroblade scar that keeps some of the fine hairs on his chest from growing back. A blaster welt slightly above the sharp ‘v’ of his hips. He looks her over as well, and she can _feel_ his eyes on her, sending a slight shiver up her spine. She smirks. Now _this_ is interesting. 

“Good morning to you too.” Her voice is playful, unable to keep her smile hidden. His eyes widen briefly. 

Feedback, immediate and unintended: _Shit. Is she reading my thoughts? Can Jedi do that?_

“If you’re thinking them that loud, yeah, we can.” Kalyn responds, turning back to the pictures on the wall to save him further embarrassment. When he stays silent, she decides to explain. “We can sense emotions,” she scans the other photos as she talks. “It depends how far you dig, and usually the recipient can feel it if you go too far.” Another pulse of want from Carth. An image. Water dripping from Kalyn’s hair onto the back of her neck. She sifts through his emotions lightly, trying to ignore the blush rising to her cheeks. “Like right now, you’re displaying confusion, curiosity, and mass amounts of-” 

She cuts off when her eyes lock in on a frame. It’s worn and cracked on the edges, clearly handled more so than the others. Carth is younger, peach fuzzed and smiling. His suit is freshly pressed. Must have been his first time wearing it. His arms are wrapped around a woman, beautiful and grinning, in her wedding dress. They’re so happy. All Kalyn’s playfulness is gone, her feelings reflecting the last emotion in his mind. 

“-guilt.” She finishes. Kalyn quickly withdraws from Carth, making her feel all the worse, knowing how horrible that feels: to have someone rip themselves out of your consciousness. Silence falls. 

“Kalyn…” Carth must have followed her gaze. She starts down the hallway. “Wait, Kalyn, that’s not-” The door to her room slides shut, cutting off the end of Carth’s words. He doesn’t follow. 

“Windows, 100%. Lights, 100%,” Kalyn mumbles, hand over her face. The lights turn on as the glass tints, blocking out any of the incoming sunlight. She leans against the closed door, sliding down so that she’s sitting on the floor. It’s so easy to peer into people’s heads. It’s something she always hated about the Jedi, and yet she can’t help herself but follow down that same path. It’s foolish. Letting herself believe for a moment that they could do this - this casual kind of happiness saved for civilians, not veterans. And here she is, picking her way through the mind of a soldier. What had she expected to find? What gave her the right? 

Getting to her feet, she runs the towel over her hair before dressing herself. She decides to get out of the apartment as soon as possible to avoid further interaction. Kalyn is just leaving her room when she feels it. A familiar presence. Exiting the turbolift, headed to the door. The holo screen inquires authorization from the guest. A pitched voice responds through the speaker on the doors. 

“ _My name is Dustil Onasi._ ” 

Kalyn hears Carth’s heavy footsteps as he rushes to the door, now clad in his military uniform. If he saw her, he ignored her. She lingers in the hallway, out of sight of the entrance, as the doors open. There’s silence, followed by the soft _thump_ of an embrace. Muffled speech, she can’t pick up a word of it. A laugh. Kalyn’s debating returning to her room when they appear in the hallway, walking towards the living room. 

It’s still a shock to her, how similar Dustil looks to Carth, save for a few features. A thinner face, sharper eyes. He wears an old Sith Academy uniform, battered and torn. He’s dirty and sunburnt. She freezes when he looks her way. 

“It’s you,” Dustil says, stopped in the intersection between the hallway and the entrance, leaving Kalyn stuck in place. “The Jedi.” Carth appears behind him, looking from her back to Dustil. 

“I was actually just leaving, sorry-” Kalyn tries to brush past the boy, but he catches her arm. 

“Wait!” They’re both so _touchy_. She turns to face him, back to the doors. “I need your help.” She glances from Dustil to Carth. He looks confused. Her eyes flick down to the hand on her wrist. Dustil lets her go. 

“I’m sure your father can help you with anything you need.” Kalyn hadn’t intended to put such emphasis on their familial connection. It’s a sad attempt to put distance to what happened earlier. She’s pretty sure it makes it worse. Kalyn turns to head out the door. 

“I want to become a Jedi.” That stops her in her tracks. She turns around slowly, catching the range of emotions displayed on Carth’s face. Dustil remains determined. “I felt it. When I was in the Academy. The Force. I think I could really do it.” 

Kalyn glances up to Carth before responding. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” 

“Don’t answer him, answer me.” Kalyn’s eyes snap to Dustil’s. That’s the one thing that sets the two apart. That anger. That fire. For Carth, it’s been long burning, just a glowing simmer of what he used to feel, but for Dustil - he hasn’t had a chance to put his anger to rest. “Just let me talk to them. The Sith…” he trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence. “I want to know the truth.” Kalyn turns to walk out the door. She pauses under the door frame, looking back through the corner of her eye. 

“Your father can tell you where to go. I’ll be waiting.” The doors slide shut behind her. Her mind is static while she makes her way out of the building. The rumble of her stomach prompts her to grab breakfast from a street vendor, not really paying attention to what she’s eating. Some egg-like thing wrapped in a soft dough. She moves on auto pilot, not realizing where she’s headed until she’s at the reception desk at the enclave. Of course. Her choices are pretty limited on Telos. Either this or the _Ebon Hawk_. The Twi’lek is gone, adding to her already ruined mood. It would have been nice to see a familiar face. However the Zabrak in their place does just as good a job at intimidation. Kalyn passes through the doors to the turbolift. 

The meditation room is empty. She takes a moment to walk about the room, taking in the calming sounds of the water trickling down the far wall. She figures if she’s so ready to use her powers, she might as well search the thoughts of someone she’s permitted to. She chooses a spot with her back to the waterfall, facing the closed doors, and sits down. Her eyes shut, and she conjures an image of the room. It doesn’t take long this time for the doors to slide open, and Bastila to enter, sitting across from her. Her form is wavering and translucent, unlike their last encounter on the Star Destroyer. Neither have their lightsabers on hand, although Kalyn’s not sure if the same rules of tangibility apply in this world. She’s here to talk; she just hopes that Bastila will do the same. 

“You seem at ease,” Bastila begins. “Surprising, considering what you were just doing, rifling around Carth’s mind like that.” Kalyn is concerned. Bastila shouldn’t know about that. Whoever is controlling her is too close for comfort. Kalyn keeps Vandar’s words in mind. The captor is not the target. Shift her to the light. 

When Bastila receives no response, she continues. “It’s probably for the best. You’ve never been the best at judging people’s intentions. If you had paid attention, you could’ve predicted my fall.” 

Kalyn narrows her eyes. “I am paying attention. There is still light in you.” Bastila clicks her tongue, avoiding Kalyn’s gaze. “You’re in pain. It hurts to be manipulated, I know. Especially by those you trust. It’s not your fault, Bastila.” Her own words loosen a tightness in her chest she didn’t realize she held. Across from her, Bastila chuckles to herself. 

“You think it’s a matter of my _feelings getting hurt?_ ” Kalyn winces. “Cute. Clinging to such childish notions.” Bastila gives Kalyn a satisfied grin. “But you would know all about being swayed by emotions, wouldn’t you?” No response, Kalyn struggles to keep a straight face. “Pathetic.” Bastila leans back on her hands, falling out of standard meditation posture, making Kalyn feel uneasy. Bastila seems too comfortable with being in Kalyn’s mind, on her own terms. “You ought to realize it by now, right? The I-don’t-know-anything-about-the-Force act? Admiral Onasi’s got you played.” Kalyn keeps her mouth shut, gripping her thighs to keep herself from speaking out. “Did you honestly believe the Republic would just let Darth Revan free to roam after what you started? The Jedi and Sith are at war because of you. And the Republic is keeping their eyes on you.” 

“I have well proved my worth.” Kalyn retorts. “It’s an act of trust. An act that you violated.” Bastila flinches, but overall seems unfazed. 

“If anything, he pities you,” Bastila looks about the room as she speaks with a bored disposition. Kalyn’s gaze is focused on her. “You have nowhere to go. At least he has the Republic to return to. Could you see yourself living with the Jedi?” Silence. “No. I think you understand. There’s no place for us after the war’s said and done. We were never peacekeepers, we’re weapons. Our days are numbered. We’re to be used until we are no more.” There’s a flicker in the corner of Kalyn’s eye. A slight probe at her consciousness. Kalyn stands slowly. Bastila eyes her suspiciously. “Well?” She adds. 

“I think we’re done here.” Kalyn comments, before the images bleed to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the awkward cut off, this and the next were originally one chapter, but it was getting a little long for my tastes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broke the last chapter up into two, so we're not done yet!
> 
> Also I finished KOTOR II and first off: Carth's scenes? Rude. secondly: I've decided I can write the Force however I want because there are no damn rules and everything is a mess.

Kalyn opens her eyes, sitting once again in the meditation room. She stands, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. It’s a bigger relief than she expects, being able to exit the dream unscathed, despite not being able to make much progress. She takes the small victory; it’s been an overwhelming day.

She heads into the turbolift, where the nudge of her mind has formed into a fully worded sentence: _There’s someone here for you_ . The doors open to the reception desk. The sun is high in the sky - she must have lost time again. Dustil stands with the Zabrak. He’s clean shaven, showered, and has changed into some of Carth’s clothes. Not the ones from her room, she notes. _This boy,_ the Zabrak seems uneasy, _he carries much darkness within him_.

 _It’s fine._ Kalyn replies, feeling the exhaustion in her voice. The conversation is concealed to only the two of them, as Dustil looks on with an uneasy expression. _He is troubled, but he can be trusted._ The Zabrak gives her another concerned look, but nonetheless opens the doors for the two. They stay silent until they begin their ascent.

“What was that about?” Dustil asks. “I could tell you were talking, but I couldn’t hear anything.”

“Your mind is marked.” Kalyn replies. “It’s only a matter of precaution. The Sith leave their trace everywhere they touch.”

“What about you? If my mind is marked, what does that make yours?” The boldness of the statement surprises her. She looks at him, and he’s staring right back. No sense of restraint. No regrets for his words or actions. A stark contrast to Carth’s cautious demeanor around her.

“I think you know just as well.” Kalyn responds. It’s interesting, being the tutor instead of the student. Allowing herself to leave questions open ended and ambiguous. So brash, young padawan. In time you will learn.

The lights from the enclave are welcoming and bright as ever. They walk to one of the benches in the main area, sitting down next to one of the large magenta flowering plants. Some of the inhabitants give Dustil wary glances, while others exit the room silently upon their entry. He looks about, staring back at those looking at him.

“What’s going on?” he seems frustrated. Kalyn is impressed that he can even feel those touching his mind, even if he doesn’t completely understand it. For Kalyn, it feels more like diving headfirst into a massive river, lukewarm waters washing over her consciousness. He’s making waves, and the others can sense it.

“Most of the Jedi open their minds here.” She begins. “We let our thoughts become one.” She doesn’t say that this is the first time she trusted herself to partake in said event. Dustil is straining to hear, she can feel his irritation. “It will take time. You won’t be able to do it on the first day.”

“So you can just listen in on other’s thoughts?” He turns to Kalyn as she watches the others milling about the area. “Isn’t that against the whole Jedi thing? Manipulating people like that?”

“It certainly has its own consequences.” The conversation ends. Kalyn’s not quite sure what Dustil expects her to do. She barely knows more members of the enclave than he does.

“Who do I talk to to get a room here?” Dustil changes the subject. At Kalyn’s incredulous look, he continues. “I can’t stay with my dad. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

“If you’re just saying that because I’m using that room, I can go.” She offers, knowing it will be rejected. The thought of leaving Carth’s makes her feel uneasy. She’s pushes the thought from her mind.

“No, it’s okay,” Dustil replies. “All he sees in me is him letting me down. It’s better for both of us if we have some distance.”  Kalyn’s surprised at the sudden maturity of the boy. His eyes are hard. She forgets - when Carth lost his wife, Dustil lost a mother; he’s had to grow up fast. Dustil keeps his gaze straight ahead. “I can’t deal with all that guilt.”

“I know the feeling.” She comments, before realizing what she’s saying. Her pang of panic releases into the open consciousness of the enclave, and several heads turn in her direction. She closes her mind quickly, blocking out any inquiring minds. Dustil watches her reactions.

“Dad told me about this morning,” He offers. She can’t hide the mortified look that flashes across her face. “I knew it!” She shoots him a glare, upset that he had caught her like that. “I knew he was leaving things out.” Good. He didn’t know exactly what had transpired. It still sets her on edge. Dustil continues, smug grin fading into genuine smile. “You know, he really likes you.”

Kalyn scoffs. She is not about to have this conversation right now. “We’ve been through a lot,” she counters.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He chides. After a beat he sighs. “Look - I’m not going to sit here and play _matchmaker_ or anything, just...talk to him? You can probably straighten a few things out.” Incredible. This little brat’s decided he’s got it all figured out.

“How old are you again? Twelve?” Kalyn knows it’s immature, but Dustil’s doing the same exact thing. He rolls his eyes and grins. He has his father’s smile. She groans internally. This conversation is over. Kalyn stands. “Come on, let’s see who we need to talk to.”

They make their way through the enclave, headed to the council room. Kalyn’s not sure who to talk to, but she figures this is a good place to start. She hasn’t even seen what the living spaces are like. Probably small and simple. Jedi were never much for material possessions. The doors to the room are closed, so she sends her mind into the space, searching for familiar presences. After a moment, the doors slide open, and Master Vrook stands in the doorway.

“Master Vrook.” Kalyn acknowledges. “It’s good to see you.” Dustil straightens his posture at the mention of ‘master’.

“Kalyn Tora,” Vrook returns. “And the young Onasi. Welcome.” Dustil sends Kalyn a quick uneasy glance. Vrook seems entertained by Dustil’s reaction. “I’m assuming you’re here to talk about a room for the boy?” Kalyn nods. Vrook proceeds before she can get a word in. “Before we discuss accommodations, a word, Kalyn?” He gestures into the empty council room, and she follows him, casting Dustil a glance before the doors shut. The room holds none of the calming charm that the rest of the enclave has. All silver and grey, a set of twenty chairs circles around a podium. On the far wall a massive holoscreen displays the midday news. She wonders if all the seats are filled when they have meetings. If they’ve found enough surviving masters to occupy the space.

“If this is about Dustil, I know he’s been with the Sith but-” She falls silent when Vrook raises his hand.

“I have no problem with him.” Vrook responds. “In fact, I think that he presents a unique opportunity.” Kalyn eyes him suspiciously, Bastila’s words echoing in her mind. A new weapon. Another disposable Jedi.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I believe he would benefit from teachings of a similar origin.” She gets what he’s implying before he has to explain. “I would recommend you taking him on as your padawan.”

Kalyn laughs. This takes the cake for today. “Me? A mentor?” When Vrook’s expression doesn’t change her laughter dies. She tries to keep her voice low. “I was a _Sith Lord_ for stars’ sake! I can’t be teaching Jedi!”

“I think you underestimate your potential. You know very well your past does not define you. It’s a lesson he must learn.” Kalyn doesn’t respond, still wary of the offer. “Think on it. You have time.”

“Can he stay here? Regardless of my decision?” For a moment she wonders if the council would force this upon her. One last display of grandeur. A former Sith Lord teaching younglings. Surely a sight to see.

“We keep an extensive list of those staying within the enclave.” Vrook explains. “If any sentient on site expresses wishes to stay, a room is designated upon entry.” That explains the quick exchange of reception assistants. Being able to keep tabs - not only digitally but mentally - of all the enclave inhabitants must bear down on a mind. Kalyn wouldn’t be surprised if the Zabrak and Twi’lek were Jedi masters themselves. “I look forward to speaking with you again, Kalyn. If you’ll excuse me-”

“Wait!” She hates herself for the outburst, but she can’t watch him go so quickly again. Vrook pauses in front of the still closed doors as she scrambles for something to say. “I keep losing time. With my meditations, I mean. Is that normal?”

Vrook gives a small smile. “Sometimes it takes time to find what you’re looking for. I would not worry about it.” Kalyn’s eyes are downcast. Of course. Another meaningless anxiety. Foolish of her to assume. “But it’s good that you’re becoming more in tune with yourself. Let me know if anything changes.” She meets his eyes. Nods. The doors slide open and Vrook disappears down the hallway, leaving a confused Dustil in his wake.

“So?” Dustil asks. He doesn’t seem aware of the events that had taken place.

“You can stay. Just talk to the reception assistant for a room.” Kalyn explains. Her head is spinning at Vrook’s offer. “I’m gonna...leave.” Dustil sends her an apprehensive look.

“You sure you’re okay?” And Force if he doesn’t sound just like his father. This is responsibility overload. She’s in desperate need of a drink.

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day. You’ll do alright without me?” She asks, walking with him to the turbolift.  
“I think I’ll manage.” There’s a fondness in his voice. “Thank you for helping out.” She nods in response. Kalyn leaves Dustil with the Zabrak, taking the short shuttle back to Carth’s. The apartment is empty, and she rifles through the fridge to find something to drink. She turns up with nothing worthwhile. Not even the shitty beer they’d been drinking the past few days. She needs to get out. Find a sense of normalcy. With a huff she returns to her room, deciding what to bring out with her. She takes a look at herself. Baggy pants and an oversized sleeved shirt. Great for Jedi, not so much for fitting in at a bar.

On a whim, she approaches her closet and takes out the formal wear she had bought her first day off the _Ebon Hawk_. She slips on the top and pants, the fabrics foreign against her rough skin. She pulls on her new boots over the pants. Her lightsaber is clipped into the belt loops of her pants - she can conceal it to anyone that decides to take a closer look. There isn’t a mirror in the room, so she can’t tell show herself that she doesn’t look as ridiculous as she feels. She doesn’t have time to fret about her looks; she doesn’t want to be home by the time Carth gets back.

Kalyn checks the map on her datapad for the nearest cantina before exiting the building. It’s nearing evening, the sun just beginning its descent. The cantina she finds is practically empty, still far too early in the day to attract a crowd. She almost likes it this way. She can sort out her thoughts without interruption. The bartender, an overly friendly rodian who is already three pints in himself, serves her a Tarisian Ale, the real stuff, and she takes her glass to one of the standing tables to the side of the empty stage. The lights are dim, and she feels less ridiculous about dressing slightly nicer than her average attire.

She takes a long swig of her drink. A _mentor_. Teaching someone else the ways of the Jedi. It still seems too incredulous to be true. Did Master Vrook talk to anyone else before approaching her about this? Was this their plan all along? What was their motivation? And where does this leave her? Does she join the enclave? Does she find somewhere else to go? What would Carth think about her training his son?

“Can’t you see?” Kalyn looks up from her glass to where Bastila leans against the table. “They’ll never stop using us for their own motives.” For a moment she wonders if she ever woke up from the meditation room. Bastila’s form is solid, but the dim lighting casts no shadows from her figure, her body failing to block the colored lights that shine from the ceiling.

 _You’re not really here._ Kalyn reminds herself. She wasn’t about to start speaking out loud to someone only she could see. At least, she thinks only she could see.

“Does it matter? _You_ see me, and that’s enough for now.” Kalyn takes another swig. Her exhaustion was probably the only thing keeping her from panicking as much as she should. Although Bastila is intangible, Kalyn knows her captor must be getting stronger. Or closer. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation.”

 _Yes, we did._ Kalyn returns. _I’m not about to fall to your way of thinking._

“Believe what you will,” Bastila pushes off from the table. “But you can’t escape your past, no matter how many simple acts of redemption you try.” She walks up to Kalyn, frighteningly close. There’s no heat from her body, no stirring of wind from the motions she makes. She’s not there, but it doesn’t stop Kalyn from flinching backwards. “You’ll always be the council’s little experiment.” Bastila taunts. “Won’t it be fun to see what they make you do next?” She turns on her heel slowly before exiting the cantina. She passes through a few patrons along the way without their notice. Kalyn tries to calm her beating heart. Stupid of her to assume she could try to have a normal night. _This_ is her version of normal. Her glass is empty, and she returns to the bar to get another.

She’s not sure how much time passes. Eventually the cantina fills with its regular crowd. A band begins playing, and dancers take the stage. Kalyn can’t remember how many drinks she’s ordered, but her body sways where she leans against the table. A few sentients give her suggestive glances as they pass by. It’s not necessary to check their minds, she knows their intent. Kalyn hopes her overall negative demeanor will keep anyone from approaching her. Almost on cue, the table jostles slightly with the weight of someone leaning against it. Kalyn sighs, ready to tell off whoever decided to join her.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Kalyn curses under her breath. “I thought it went against the Jedi code to wear color.” She turns back towards her new companion.

The v in Carth’s black t-shirt dips just low enough to see part of the vibroblade scar on his chest. He probably shaved this morning, but his 5 o’clock shadow is already apparent. His smile is wider than normal; she’s guessing he’s already had a drink or two. He nods to the half-empty glass in her hand. “You’ve tried the ale?” he asks. “How is it?” They might have more in common than Kalyn originally thought. Carth seems more than willing to ignore the events that passed this morning. Maybe he’s drinking to forget. She decides to play along.

“It’s not bad. It gets better the more you drink.” He smirks, and she smiles.

“Ain’t that the truth.” They clink their glasses, and she takes a hefty gulp from her glass. He doesn’t mention his son. Hopefully meaning that he knows about Dustil’s decision to live apart from him. Either way it’s not a subject she’s ready to bring up. She orders another round for the two of them, and they watch the rest of the bar while sipping their drinks. By now her mind is starting to get fuzzy. It occurs to her that she hasn’t eaten anything save for what she grabbed at the food stand. Carth looks a bit better off. Lucky.

“Do you stop here at the end of every week?” She asks, trying to keep the slurring of her speech to a minimum.

“Really?” Carth laughs a little too loud. “‘Come here often?’ That’s the oldest trick in the book.” Kalyn tries to hide her smile with no luck. She elbows him in the side, sloshing the drink in her hand dangerously. “Yeah, usually,” he relents. “There’s a few regulars that play a mean game of pazaak. The bartender gives me discounts too.” He winks, she rolls her eyes. This is so easy. It’s not like she’s forgotten what had happened this morning, but she can’t find a reason to care at this point. The lights are hazy and the music is loud enough so that they have to raise their voices to be heard. It’s so easy to get lost here. Kalyn sways slightly off balance, but uses the Force to steady herself. Somewhere some long lost Jedi Master is looking down at her in shame. This is probably some kind of violation of the Jedi code.

Carth leans into her personal space. Speaking of violations to the code. “How do you think Mission’s doing on Kashyyyk?” he asks, looking up at the Twi’leks that dance on the stage. Kalyn snorts. Mission had always been complaining about Zalbaar’s hygiene, mannerisms, and way of dress. Kalyn can’t imagine how she’d be faring on an entire planet of Wookies.

“Maybe she’s convinced them all to adopt new hairstyles.” She replies. Carth laughs, pushing back the hair falling in his face. “We’ll see a whole line of Wookie fashion come through in a few months.” The conversation fades. Kalyn is relying more and more on her powers to keep her steady. Carth is swaying slightly, but looks to have a higher tolerance than she does.

He hits the table with his hand, startling Kalyn for a moment. “You know what you need to try? Their Corellian firewhiskey! I’ll go grab us a few.” Before she can respond he’s left the table, taking their empty glasses with them. She looks around at the crowd with ease. Maybe she was mistaken by this morning. Maybe she was overreacting, or assumed wrong of the situation. She hasn’t been checking Carth’s feedback tonight, but his actions suggest that everything is okay between the two of them.

A hand slinks around her waist. Kalyn turns, and for a moment expects the touch to be Carth’s, but comes face to face with a stranger. A male Twi’lek, dark bronze colored with a lazy smile on his lips.

“Who do we have here? You look familiar.” His voice is smooth and seductive. Through the haze of the alcohol Kalyn feels a prick of panic. This is _wrong_ . She wants him _away_.

“You better step away before you lose that hand.” Kalyn is impressed with how coherent the words come out. She brushes his hand away roughly, stumbling slightly at the quick action.

“Oh come on, baby. Don’t be like that.” She can feel it. Those famous Twi’lek seduction powers. He’s probably never been rejected in his life. Kalyn fights it. He brings his hand to her face, trying to brush away some of the hair that’s fallen in her eyes. She moves on reflex, snatching his wrist and twisting it behind his back. Her training takes over. It’s almost as if she’s sitting back and watching her body go through the motions. By the time she’s done he’s on his back on the floor. Her lightsaber is out, pointed at his chest. The band has stopped, and the crowd has pushed away from her, making way to a small circle of space around the two. Through the glow of the lightsaber she can see the recognition in his eyes.

“I know you,” his voice is a mix of awe and fear. “You’re that Jedi...the _Sith Lord_ ….Darth _Revan!_ ” Murmurs break through the crowd as she retracts her weapon, hooking it back on her belt loop and backing away. The Twi’lek scrambles to his feet, disappearing into the crowd without another word.

_You can’t escape your past._

Her intoxication comes into swing full force, and she whips her head around at the range of faces staring, searching for Bastila.

Carth appears through the crowd, two shot glasses in his hands. He stops in his tracks when he finds the crowd parted, and Kalyn in the center. She makes a B line to him.

“What’s going-” Carth is cut off as Kalyn takes one of the glasses from his hands, downing it in one gulp.

“We’re leaving.” She mutters, pushing past him towards the exit. He follows shortly after.

The band has started again up by the time the two make it outside. The night air cools her flushed face as Kalyn walks quickly, determined to get to the shuttles as fast as possible, but she’s losing her grips on her Force powers, and she lists dangerously.

“Hey, now,” Carth appears at her side, pulling one of her arms around his neck and wrapping his own around her waist. She relinquishes all Force efforts, putting most of her weight against him. “Jeez, you’re worse off than I thought.”

“I was using-” she pauses to collect her speech. “-the Force.” Carth tries to hold in a laugh. Fails.

“You- You were _what?_ ”

“You heard me.” Kalyn grumbles. Carth snickers, and she stumbles, his grip on her waist tightening. He holds her steady as they make their way to the shuttles. She tries to calm her spinning head as they speed towards the apartment, Carth resting a hand on her waist just in case she loses balance. At the apartment he dims the lights so they both aren’t squinting around the room. He lowers Kalyn so that she’s half leaning, half sitting on the back of the couch, while he removes his boots to set by the doors. Carth finds a spot across from her to lean against the wall. Kalyn tries to keep her head straight, but she can’t make it stop bobbing in small circles.

“What happened?” Carth’s speech is still a little slurred. How he managed to get both of them home she’ll never know.

“He called me _Revan_ ,” she replies all too quickly. “He deserved a lot worse than that-” Carth pushes off the wall, towards Kalyn. “I’m sorry. I overreacted I didn’t-” She backtracks, panic rising without her sobriety to put logic to action.

“Hey,” Carth puts his hands on her shoulders, leaning down to her height. It’s a comforting gesture, despite the fact that he’s using her to hold himself up. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. It’s okay.” She looks into his eyes, too close for her to properly focus, and casts him a tired smile.

“We both know if there’s anything I have to apologize for, it’s that.” Kalyn closes her eyes. She’s a mess. It’s just these simple things. Living day to day life. They’re so incredibly out of reach for her. No matter what she tries to do, it seems like there isn’t a place for her in this kind of world. She can’t even get a drink at a bar without it ending in violence and chaos.

“Kalyn,” Carth’s hand goes to the back of her neck as he presses his forehead against hers. “You need to learn to forgive yourself.” Her hand goes up to clasp his wrist, her thumb on his pulse. “You owe it to yourself.” Everything is just so _warm_. Her body, his touch. When she doesn’t respond, he pulls away. She opens her eyes. “We should probably get to bed.” His arm snakes around her waist, and he helps her to her feet.

Carth sits her down on the bed, and Kalyn sloppily removes her boots while he sets her lightsaber on the bedstand. He stops to kneel at her feet, movements deliberate and solid compared to her stumbling. He keeps his eyes on hers, reaching forward slowly, carefully cupping her face in his hands. She sits with her hands on her knees, trying not to lean into his touch any more than she already is. He’s _so_ close. His thumb strokes over her face, a familiar gesture she didn’t realize she missed. Kalyn sighs despite her best efforts to remain silent.

“We need to talk about this.” Carth says. At this point, she’s not even sure which _this_ he’s referring to. “Tomorrow.” He lets go, making to stand, but Kalyn reaches forward, bunching her hands in the thin fabric of his shirt. His hands fall back to her shoulders.

“ _Carth_ ,” Kalyn’s voice is desperate. She’s not sure how to finish the question. She doesn’t even know what she wants at this point. Carth stays still, waiting for Kalyn to finish her sentence. He’s just so damn patient, so forgiving. It’s something she hasn’t expected in anyone in a long time. She shuts her eyes. Her next phrase is quiet.

“Stay.”

They sit like this for a moment, Kalyn keeping a steady grip on Carth’s shirt, as if it’s the only thing tethering her to this world. With each second her heartbeat gets louder. She worries she won’t be able to hear him over the sound.

“Okay.” His response comes out as a sigh, almost a confession. She releases him shakily, opening her eyes as he makes his way to the other side of the bed. His movements are cautious as they slip under the sheets, him querying the lights to fade to darkness. Kalyn lies facing him. She can barely make out his face in the moonlight that shines through the windows. His eyes are open, watching her. She can’t judge his expressions with her current state of mind. What did she just do?

Kalyn’s hand reaches out, slowly, until her fingertips brush against the scar on Carth’s chest. His breath catches just slightly. With the touch she pushes forward towards him, nuzzling her nose into his neck and sliding her arms around his waist. She can hear him exhale deeply, his arms wrapping around the small of her back and cradling her head. Kalyn slots their legs together and breathes deep. Just for this once. Just tonight. She’ll deal with the fallout tomorrow, but for tonight she’ll let herself have this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I planned it so that 90% of the plot happens in the last two chapters. Enjoy.

Kalyn’s body twitches when she wakes, causing the arms wrapped around her to pull her closer into their embrace. She exhales slowly, mind gradually coming online. It’s only when her eyes open does it hit her. Where she is. Who she’s with. Panic shocks through her system, and before she can calm herself both she and Carth are shoved out of the bed. She lands on her back after tumbling off the edge, and a solid _thunk_ from the other side suggests Carth hit the wall. _Force_. She hadn’t meant to do that. The sunlight glares in from the window, and she blinks rapidly for her eyes to adjust. She sits up, looking across the mattress to where Carth landed. He’s on his feet, springing into battle stance before he has a chance to process what’s happening. When he meets her eyes, he attempts to fall at ease. His expression is cautious. No, there’s more to it. A worry, a fear. She can see it in his eyes.

“I’ll...take first shower.” Carth says. There’s a nervous edge to his voice. Kalyn watches him, trying to process everything that just happened, not to mention what happened last night. “I’ll just...go.” Carth stands and wanders out of the room, glancing back once before the doors close.

What _happened_ ? Suddenly her pounding headache she had been ignoring roars to life. She tries to scan through her memories of last night, but she can’t come up with anything other than vague feelings. Blurry touches. But what had they _said_? She remembers pulling her lightsaber on the Twi’lek, but everything after that is gone. The thought hits her. She had raised a weapon to a stranger. In public. Did she kill him? Why did she react so violently? Her body had acted on her own, like she couldn’t control herself.

“Of course you can’t control yourself,” Kalyn whips her head toward the voice, where Bastila leans near the closed door. “The Force is a _power_ , you can’t just use it for cheap party tricks.”

“You don’t belong here.” Kalyn returns, slowly rising to her feet. _Stars_ , her head _hurts_. The fall off the bed didn’t help much either.

“ _I_ don’t belong here? Did you see what you just did to him? What you did last night?” Bastila crosses her arms. There’s a smug grin on her face, seemingly amused at Kalyn’s claim to this space. It makes Kalyn’s gut twist. “Rightfully so that he recognized you. You were always known for your lack of control.”

“I don’t need to apologize to you.” Kalyn shoots back, a whisper of last night echoing in her brain. Carth had said so. She hadn’t killed the Twi’lek, and he had held her, there in the living room. She tries to recall more, but anything else is hidden behind the throbbing of her brain.

Bastila snickers as Kaly tries to reign in the desperate look on her face. “Did he tell you that?” Kalyn’s expression doesn’t change, but Bastila smirks nonetheless. “When will you realize? He’s _terrified_ of you.” More flashes of memory. This morning. The fear in his eyes. Last night, the look on his face when he had found her in the middle of the bar, surrounded by wary looking strangers. “He’ll tell you anything to keep you happy. All those whimsical thoughts of him being gentle around you, he’s watching his steps to make sure you don’t _kill him_.”

The room is spinning, Kalyn’s thoughts muddled. There’s no way. But how can she be so sure? Did she lie to herself to make believe she could live here like this? All her memories are thrown into a new light. Every kind gesture, every soft question, it was self preservation, not care. Anything she tries to come up with to counter Bastila’s point seems weak. What she had - what she thought she had - it isn’t enough to prove his actions genuine. With each bright memory she’s met with the fear in his eyes, the worn-out wedding photo in the living room, and Bastila’s words. _He’s terrified of you._ They overpower reason. It makes perfect sense. This was all too good to be true. Why did she expect anything different?

“At this point, I don’t have to do anything.” Bastila pushes off from the wall, letting her arms fall to her sides. “You’ll destroy yourself, and everything you love just fine on your own.” To Kalyn’s horror, she watches the door slide open at Bastila’s approach. “We’re weapons, Revan. And you’re a bomb about to go off.” The door shuts behind Bastila as she exits, and Kalyn breaks into a panic.

What had she done? She tore into Carth’s life, took advantage of his hospitality, so sure that he was being genuine, when in reality he was her hostage. He’s been following her every whim on a fragile hope that she doesn’t destroy him like she’s destroyed everyone around her.

Kalyn acts fast. Her backpack. Her credits. Her weapons. Her clothes are stuffed in the top of the bag. She slings it over her shoulder. How can someone with so little possessions make such an impact? Take up such space in someone else’s life? She rushes to the door, tossing her commlink on the caf table on the way there. She’s not sure where she wants to go, but she’s sure she needs to get _out_. She pauses, and with one last look around the apartment, deletes her information from the holo screen. Kalyn stops in the hallway, listening to the doors slide shut behind her. A deep breath. And she’s gone.

* * *

Three days. The time seems to fly by. It’s hard to imagine Kalyn had spent almost as much time away as she had in Carth’s presence. She spends the first day traveling aimlessly about the city, taking shuttles that lead nowhere, walking into stores and immediately leaving. She knows that as soon as she stops moving the reality of the situation will catch up to her. Any idea of what to do dies in her head. Leave the planet...and go where? Find an apartment...and then what? Kalyn blocks any stray thoughts of him from her mind. She throws up walls to her own thought processes, refusing to look back on the situation. _The situation_ , that’s what she’s started to call it. Like she’s surveying a minefield. Too dangerous to enter now. Reassess later.

Late at night when she tires of wandering, she heads for the enclave. At least there she knows she’ll have a bed. Despite the time of day, the Zabrak barely glances her way before opening the doors. He sends her room information as she’s riding up the turbolift. The enclave is empty, fountain waters still in the common room, sparse lighting resembling starlight scattered about the ceiling. She keeps her mind wary for one other as she heads to her room: Dustil. The last thing she wants is to run into him. He’s on a different floor, unaware and offline. Probably best for the both of them. She’ll disappear from his life as well soon enough. He doesn’t ever need to know about the offer to teach him.

She was right, the rooms are sparse. A thin-sheeted mattress pushed up against one of the corners. A small table that’s low enough to kneel at. A few plants snaking up the walls. It would’ve been nice to get a room with a window. She’ll miss the sunsets from the apartment. She pushes the thought from her mind before it takes root. Kalyn sets her backpack in one of the corners. This is it. For now. It’s frustrating how she doesn’t have a plan. Not that she ever had a plan in the first place, but it seems Carth had thrown her life in motion, and she can’t find it in herself to stop now. She can’t go back to what she was doing before, if anything because she knows he’d look for her there. No. Kalyn’s done thinking about it for the day. She commands herself to leave it alone, knowing nothing productive or rational will come from it. Most of her clothes are still dirty, but she finds a sleeveless top and a pair of loose-fitting pants to slip on. She pulls on her sweatshirt, ignoring the slight smell in favor of the soft fabric. The room is cool, and she wraps the sheets around herself, attempting to generate heat. It’s a stark change where she was the night before. She’s too tired to push the thought from her mind. She falls asleep feeling something like regret.

The second day is spent in that room. She blocks her mind to the inhabitants of the enclave. It was nice to be lost in the crowds the day before, but the enclave is different. There’s a sort of peace in the easy flow of minds. An undisturbed calm. She feels like adding her own would be like tossing a boulder into the middle of it. Kalyn lets her mind go to static, finding nothing to do and nothing she wants to think on. She counts her credits, tends to her weapons, and stares at the plants adorning the walls of the room. The one time she leaves the room to find something to eat, she runs into Master Vrook. She avoids his questions about teaching Dustil, not saying no, but not saying yes. Vrook doesn’t push her for an explanation, and it somehow makes her feel worse than if he had seen through her charade. She can’t even find the effort to pity herself. She feels hollow. Her thoughts drift to Carth, and she can’t seem to tear them away. But they’re stale memories. The image of his wedding photo burns in the backs of her eyes. Any fond memory is drowned out by the fact that, when it all comes down to it, Kalyn is responsible for his wife’s death. If he has any feelings for Kalyn, they are misguided.

It’s better this way. He has his own wars to wage. The last thing he needs is to enter another battlefield when he returns home. It’s better for herself as well, she’s reminded. Bastila’s become far too powerful, and she suspects it’s because of her lack of effort. Every conversation spent with Bastila has so far turned to an argument. Turning her to the light seems almost impossible at this point. Kalyn still needs guidance, and in order to do that, she must speak with a master.

The third day she rises before the lights in her room signal dawn. She wouldn’t consider her sleep these days particularly restful, but she’d pick anything over any possible dreams she could have. Or nightmares. It seems that the two are easily interchangeable at this point. It takes a few minutes to find the showers, and she spends little time once she’s there. The water is barely warm enough to be tolerable, and the toiletries seem to lack any kind of cosmetic scent. Her stomach twists at how much she misses Carth’s shampoo. She clenches her teeth when she realizes it’s because the scent reminds her of him. Kalyn pulls on the same clothes she’s worn since the first night, and leaves the showers in search of Vandar.

She finds him in the center of the enclave. It’s fairly empty, still early for many to be in the common areas. The Jedi Master stands near the tall fountain in the center, watching the water bubble over the granite with an intense concentration.

“Kalyn,” Vandar’s gaze doesn’t lift from the fountain when she reaches his side. “You spent the night here.”

“Yes,” Kalyn’s not sure if that was a statement or a question. “I’m going to spend some time here, if that’s appropriate.” The words sound ridiculous once they leave her mouth. Vrook might be okay with her returning to the Jedi, but at this point there is less of the Jedi Code that she hasn’t broken than what she has.

“Your residence with the Admiral has ended?” Okay. That one is a question, but not one she wants to answer. It isn’t an accusation, but something about Vandar makes her feel the need to explain herself. She thinks back to what he had said to her before.

“I need to be around those I trust.” Vandar is silent, closing his eyes and looking away from the fountain. The water falls still. Of course. He had been controlling it. Does he power the fountains all the time? He begins to walk along the vine-covered wall encircling the common area. Kalyn follows. “Bastila,” she starts. “She’s gotten stronger. I’m struggling to save her.” Silence. Not enough to prompt a response, evidently. “I do admit, I have been...distracted. She’s gained power with my negligence-”

“I’m afraid I cannot assist you.” Vandar interrupts, stopping in his tracks. “This is something only you can accomplish.”

“But I’m _failing-_ ”

“You must _try_ , Kalyn. Even if it is difficult.” His eyes are on hers, and she feels small. “We are not defined by our accomplishments. We are nothing, if not our efforts.” Vandar sounds different. He sounds _upset_ , a rare emotion among Jedi. “You must excuse me.” Vandar exits the common area, and Kalyn does not follow.

Kalyn exhales sharply through her nose. So much for guidance. She leans up against the water fountain, sliding her back along its wall until she sits on the floor. When was the last time she had a Master snap at her like that? Vandar had the unique capability of making her feel like a child again. Something about him just made her act out, almost in defiance. She sighs. It’s best she clear her mind. There’s no point at going after Bastila when her brain is still racing like this.

She closes her eyes, trying to imagine the water moving under her will. It’s a lot harder than she thinks. She’s never dealt with something as fluid and shapeless. It’s almost as if she’s trying to bend the Force itself. At one point she seems like she’s getting the hang of it, but the water slips from her grasp at the last moment. After what feels like hours, the most she can get it to do is slosh around in slow waves. She focuses on that. Small victories. We are nothing if not our efforts. As time passes she feels the motion get easier. Almost as if she can build off of it. She reaches deep within the stone and pulls, gently. It seems as though the water has finally ceased to evade her, following her guidance up through the fountain. When it bubbles out the top she feels a bloom of happiness cross her thoughts, and that’s when it hits her.

Of course. Her mind is open. There are others in the area now, helping to aid the fountain’s flow. Her sense of accomplishment is echoed across the other minds as they assist.

“I didn’t expect to find you here.”

She opens her eyes. Jolee Bindo sits on the bench across from Kalyn’s position on the floor. The lights of the enclave are bright, it must be well after dawn. Jolee wears the Jedi robes found standard among the Order. He looks healthy. Happy.

“I could say the same thing.” Kalyn returns. Jolee had never entirely agreed with the Order’s teachings. There had been times that he denounced the title of Jedi altogether. To see him at the enclave willingly is surprising at the very least.

“Yeah, call me a hypocrite.” He responds, smiling. He looks at peace. Kalyn stands along with Jolee. “Have you eaten this morning?” She shakes her head. “Care to join me?”

“That would be nice.” She says. They make their way to the gardens, althought the room resembles more of a jungle. Tall trees soar towards the high ceilings, while streams snake through the bushes that scatter the ground. Most of the floor is dirt, but a cobblestone path meanders around the greenery. They take their time picking strange fruit from the trees before washing them in the stream. They sit and eat on a bench near the garden exit, watching the water flow around the room.

“They’re not too into the whole ‘cooking’ thing here.” Jolee comments. He doesn’t seem to mind. Kalyn imagines how a Jedi growing up in the enclave would deal with modern cutlery. Probably similar to her experience with the cheese grater. The thought makes her next bite sour. It seems all she can do is think about Carth. Everything before their meeting on the _Endar Spire_ is blurry and faded. She can catch small glimpses every now and then, stray emotions and images, but for the most part her memories come into focus after landing on Taris. She has no choice _but_ to think of him.

“You seem different.” Jolee’s comment brings her back to the present. The statement leaves her a bit dumbstruck.

“Jolee you _hated_ the Jedi at one point, and now you’re living with them?” He chuckles to himself, assumingly at the avoidance of his statement. “What happened?”

“To be honest, _you_ happened.” She turns to look at him. “You made a lot of changes within the Jedi. You came back. You turned to the light, even when you had every reason to stay in the dark. It’s nothing official yet, but the Order is…reassessing their teachings. They might be taking on some of the blame for fallen Jedi.” Kalyn isn’t entirely convinced. Wouldn’t he be wary of the Order saying they’re going to change? How can he trust them, knowing what he does and how they’ve acted in the past? Jolee seems to read her expressions.

“We don’t always see eye to eye.” he continues. “But I think they have good intentions. They’re headed in the right direction, and they can be better than their past errors.” He looks away. “And...I think I belong here. I think I can help. I feel like I’m in the right place, in the Order. Like I can become someone again.”

“That’s a lot to look past.” Kalyn comments.

“I have to try.” Jolee meets her eyes again. “But enough of my rambling. So, am I going to be seeing you around? It’d be nice to see a familiar face now and then.” Kalyn’s smile is small but warm. A home. A purpose. Perhaps the Order is where she belongs as well. And the first thing she can do to help is by solving her problem with Bastila once and for all.

“I’m going to try.” She responds. They leave the gardens, standing outside the doors before they part ways.

“You’ve changed.” Jolee comments. “You’re quiet.”

“I was always quiet.”  
“Ah, but this is different. You’re holding back.” Kalyn avoids his gaze, looking down the hallway. “I know you Kalyn, you can’t pull the wool over my eyes.” she scoffs. She’s too transparent around those she’s spent time with.

“You’re losing your touch, Jolee.” he smirks. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Alright.” Jolee relents. “But take an old man’s advice: it’s dangerous to lock things away. They’ll consume you if you aren’t careful.” She’s tempted to check his mind. He’s hitting too close to home for her tastes.

They head their separate ways, Jolee towards the enclave center, and Kalyn to the meditation room. It feels like ages since her last visit. She sits in the center of the room, facing the waterfall. Is the water here controlled by the Force as well? Is the entire enclave supported by its inhabitants? It seems the longer she spends time here, the more questions she has. Her perception of the enclave has shifted greatly from the shabby apartments she originally thought of. It was much more complex. Much less easily defined.

Kalyn’s stomach is in knots, she can’t tell if from nervousness or resolve. She’s clear of distractions, she’s moving on. This is her first step back on the right path. She takes a deep breath.

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore,” Kalyn hasn’t closed her eyes yet, but Bastila has already joined her side. “I’m always right there, in your mind.”

She looks so _real_. Her face is spotted in purple veins, and her eyes glow a dull yellow. The dark robes she wears are battle torn and dirty. But her hair, she keeps it pulled up just like she always had. It makes Kalyn’s chest tighten. After all of this, Bastila was a friend. A companion. She trusted her. She’s sick of treating her like some masked villain, even if it’s easier that way.

“Bastila, what happened?” Kalyn’s voice is quiet but strong. There’s silence for a bit. Both keep their eyes trained to the water rippling down the wall.

“I used to ask myself that.” Kalyn is surprised at the willingness in her response. “When Malak was torturing me, when I was slowly beginning to see what I see today.” It kills Kalyn to imagine Bastila’s kidnapping. She must have been so alone. So afraid. Behind Bastila’s controlled demeanor, she was just a padawan. Too young to be thrown into the war she fought in. Bastila slowly turns her head towards Kalyn, and Kalyn matches her gaze from the corner of her eye.

“It really all comes down to you.” Bastila says. “You - you were the start of it all. If it weren’t for you I would’ve stayed blind to the ways of the Order for the rest of my life. But instead I’m here, by your hand. It seems you hold my life in your grasp either way.”

“You gave me no choice.” Kalyn can’t help the hitch in her voice. The reality of Bastila’s death hadn’t sunk in until after they had fled the Star Forge. They had held a bond unlike anything else she’d experienced, and the hole it left still gnawed at the back of her mind.

Bastila smirks. “Choice? Didn’t you tell me ‘there’s always a choice?’” Kalyn flinches. “You Jedi are all alike. Clinging to your false morals when it suits you, and betraying them when it’s convenient.” She turns to kneel towards Kalyn, who mirrors her action. She’s too close for comfort, but Kalyn can’t back away. “That was your choice. These are your choices. You manipulate people, make them believe they love you, and kill or push them away when you’re done with them.” Bastila pauses to glance down where Kalyn fists her hands at her sides. “Tell me, did you leave him because you didn’t trust him, or you didn’t trust yourself? How long would it have taken for you to hurt him? Kill him? A week? A year?”

“He’s better off on his own,” Kalyn is surprised at the malice in her voice. Bastila knows too much. Kalyn’s fears run off Bastila’s tongue with too much ease. Things she hasn’t come to realize are too plain to see for Bastila. “We both are.”

“We’re creatures of isolation, Revan.” Bastila looks almost sorry for her words. “Whether you want it or not, it’s what we are.” Kalyn keeps her eyes locked at Bastila’s knees. Bastila’s right. She’s a poison. A drug that lures her companions in so they don’t even realize they’re being used up. “It’s not so bad though,” Bastila continues, reaching out towards Kalyn. “There’s strength in solitude.”

Kalyn shuts her eyes. Ever since Carth had found her again she had felt _so_ vulnerable. It was nothing resembling her past self. Even fighting Malak she had done alone. The others would have just gotten in her way. Gotten hurt, either by Malak or herself. She doesn’t belong in a world of home cooked meals and warm beds and waterfalls. She is war and chaos and danger. She hurts those around her and she is far better off alone.

“You’re right.” Kalyn’s stomach lurches at her own words.

“There, there.” Bastila sounds sympathetic. “We were always meant for this. There’s nothing to regret.” And that’s when it happens. A touch, freezing cold but oh so very real, tapping just below Kalyn’s jaw to raise her downturned face. Kalyn’s eyes fly open.

She’s left the meditation room. In its place are the same ashy grounds she found herself in her first nightmare. Bastila is gone.

_You hold my life in your grasp either way._

Bastila’s voice echoes around the area, but it’s distorted and deep and mixes with her own. Kalyn is met with a pair of pale yellow eyes, and a face covered in creeping dark veins.

 _Her_ face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaohshit
> 
> Here’s where I realized that although I had a good concept of what I wanted to tell, I am actually a very bad writer OTL  
> It’s really hard to define that feeling where you doubt all of your past interactions, no matter how genuine they may seem. The constant feeling that it wasn’t enough, or that new events diminish any past ones. I tried to portray that, but I don’t think I quite got it down.
> 
> Next chapter should be the last!


	8. Chapter 8

It’s Kalyn, transformed. She wears the same robes as Bastila, worn down just as hers had been, and bloodstained. Kalyn tries to move, but she seems frozen in place, fixed on her spot by her double.

It all clicks into place. Why Vandar didn’t want her looking for Bastila’s captor. Why the constant use of ‘we’. Why Bastila always seemed to know what Kalyn was up to, despite not reaching out to her. She’s an echo of Kalyn’s past life. The tiny bit of Darth Revan that’s been hidden in the back of Kalyn’s mind. She can’t do anything but shake on the spot as her double stands, wicked grimace on her face.

“ _This isn’t what we wanted._ ” Revan’s voice is garbled and scratchy. “ _We’ve fallen so far. It’s pathetic._ ” Kalyn remains silent, fear keeping speech from her. Revan glares. “ _Stand!_ ” Suddenly the force that binds her to the ground disappears, and she scrambles to her feet. Despite the smoke in the air and the smell of burning, her body is ice cold, like that touch had taken away her warmth. She fumbles for her lightsaber before remembering she had left it in her room. The double laughs. “ _Even if you had come armed, what do you think hurting me would do?_ ”

Kalyn’s head spins. What does this all mean? When did her feelings start shifting like this? She can’t trust any of her thoughts, can’t piece together where she begins and her other self ends. She’s disconnected from the world she stands in. Everything is burned and ashen and her double is scabbed and bloody. She stands clean in her newly bought clothes, a stranger to this land.

“ _Just sit back,_ ” Revan says. “ _Your time is over. Let me in. I can make us strong again._ ” Kalyn takes a step back as she advances.

“I can’t.” Kalyn manages. She’s shaking, trying to keep a strong face in front of this nightmare. Is this what she looked like when she slaughtered her fellow Jedi? Is this the face that led to the death of thousands under her hand?

“ _In doing so, you bring suffering to those you love._ ” Kalyn clenches her jaw. “ _Is that what you want?_ ” Silence. Kalyn is more than aware of the casualties that Revan left behind. Her friends are no safer under Revan’s rule than her own. Kalyn knows these tactics. Revan doesn’t lie, but it’s never the whole truth. “ _Very well. If you won’t give in willingly, I’ll take your place by force._ ”

Her double is fast, landing a punch across her face before Kalyn can react. She falls to the ground, coating her body in ash. Kalyn rolls as Revan kicks at the empty space she leaves. She flips onto her feet, blocking the next series of quick punches. Revan is always attacking, giving Kalyn no space to advance. A hit lands deep in her stomach, and she curls over, system shocked just long enough for her double’s knee to crack between her eyes. She falls to the ground, swiping with her leg blindly. Revan trips, landing hard on her side. She leaps at Kalyn, and they grapple in the ash, blood mixing with their sweat. They snarl and grunt as their hands scratch over each other’s skin. Revan’s touch is impossibly cold, despite her own freezing temperature. Every touch seems to sink into Kalyn’s skin long after she’s wrenched away from Revan’s grasp. Kalyn grabs a handful of ash and mashes it in Revan’s face, jumping back to her feet while the double paws at her eyes.

Kalyn can feel it. That static. The energy building up around the two of them, flowing towards Revan as she stands, ash rubbed into her face. They both breathe heavy, the fight without their powers taking a toll on their bodies. But now the Force swirls around them, kicking up the ash in lazy circles.

The first wave of electricity strikes Kalyn’s arms, hands thrown up to block her face. She fights it, dulling the pain. It’s like needles piercing her skin. The second knocks her back a few feet, but she manages to hold her ground. Her strength is draining. She has to end this soon or she’ll be in trouble. She senses the third before it appears, giving her just enough time to prepare. A red light shocks it’s way towards Kalyn, and she greets it with an open palm. She takes it in, passes it through her body, and sends it straight back. It hits Revan in the chest, and she falls backward. Kalyn is breathing fast, the electricity still circling through her system. Before the double can recover, Kalyn puts her in a Force choke. It’s not enough to cut off her breathing, but the double is stuck on the ground as Kalyn slowly advances towards her.

“ _You can’t survive without me._ ” Revan whispers. “ _Kill me. End your own suffering. It’s the only way._ ” Kalyn’s eyes are wild, taking breaths in open mouthed gasps. It would be so easy, so fast, and it would fix everything. One flick of her wrist and Darth Revan would cease to exist. No more ticking time bombs. No more doubting others’ intentions. And yet.

“You’re right.” Kalyn says between wheezing breaths. “I’m not myself without you - without my past.” Revan struggles against Kalyn’s grasp, a crooked scowl on her face. “But I need to forgive myself.” A flash of memory. Carth’s hand on the back of her neck, forehead pressed to hers. “I owe us that much.”

“ _This isn’t over._ ” Her double’s eyes are angry, but weak. “ _I’ll haunt you. You won’t be rid of me._ ” Kalyn’s grip fades; Revan has lost the energy to fight.

“I know.” Kalyn’s breathing has slowed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Rest, for now. Your time is over.”

Revan lets out a breath. She’s still, angry expression slowly fading. Her form seems to shrink, morphing in front of Kalyn’s eyes. In its place lies Bastila, still clad in her sith robes and glowing faintly against the dark ash. She lies just as she had after Kalyn’s final blow on the Star Forge. Her eyes are closed. It’s not peaceful. It pulls at Kalyn’s heart.

Kalyn kneels at Bastila’s side. She’s been here all this time, prevented from moving on. Her hair is disheveled, and Kalyn brushes a few strands from her face. She looks so young. Kalyn cups her cheek: it’s warm to the touch.

“Bastila,” Kalyn starts. What could she even say? Apologize? Beg for forgiveness? She feels like there should be more to this, another conversation, one last fight. But she realizes that she’s grappling to hold onto Bastila, and the one thing that she needs most is to be let go. Kalyn doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t think it, but it’s felt nonetheless. A silent farewell hanging in the air.

Bastila’s form shivers, and a white light engulfs her. The light passes through Kalyn as it makes its way skyward, and it feels like a wave of warmth washing over her. She watches the light until it fades from sight.

With a gasp, Kalyn awakes in the meditation room, at least what’s left of it. It’s dark, the lights must have been blown out, and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust. Everything save for a small area around where she sits is destroyed. The walls are blackened with soot, and large gashes streak across the floors. The plants are burnt, and the waterfall is dry. Kalyn appears as she had before, with not a single scratch to show for what had taken place. She stands slowly, turning about the room to see the damage she must have caused.

The doors open behind her and she spins, ready to face her next opponent. Did she truly exit the dream? Was this another test? Light streams into the ruined room, blinding Kalyn to those on the other side. When her vision returns, she comes face to face with Vandar, with both the Twi’lek and Zabrak at his sides. They stand in silence as Kalyn feels the Force of both members reaching out to her mind. It’s different this time. It’s powerful, anxious, as if they’re not sure what they might find. Only when she feels them pass through her mind, sifting through her thoughts and coming up with nothing to be concerned of, do they leave Vandar’s side. He slowly approaches her.

“You knew.” There’s no anger behind her statement. Just a simple observation. She’s not sure whether it would have been better to tell her from the beginning or not.

“It was something you had to face on your own.” Vandar replies. “Although, it was painful to see you struggle as you have.” He looks around the room. “We were prepared for the worst.” The Twi’lek and Zabrak might have been assigned to keep an eye on her.

“And Bastila?” Her mind is spinning, trying to hold onto this conversation in the wake of everything that’s happened.

“She has become one with the Force, as it should be.” Kalyn diverts her eyes to the open doorway.

“I should have spared her. It was not our way.” She knows that now, but it doesn’t ease the pain, or bring Bastila back to life.

“Much has been unveiled to you. You’ve learned. You would not be here if you hadn’t.” He inclines his head slightly towards the hallway, and she follows him out.

The lights are dimmer than she expected. Time has shifted, yet again. It must be late at night. She shivers. Her body hadn’t recovered from Revan’s first touch. They make their way to the common area. It’s empty, and the fountain is quiet.

“You have done well.” Vandar breaks the silence. “You have faced insurmountable odds, and proven them wrong. When everything told you to fall, you stayed true.” Kalyn keeps her eyes locked on the fountain, unsure how to respond. Gratitude? Pride?

“But not everything must be fought on your own.” Vandar continues, glancing her way from the corner of his eye. “You still hold back.” A phrase, pushed from his mind into hers: _the Admiral_. Her stomach knots at the mention of him. Her doubt, her worries, although very real, were not caused from Carth’s ingenuity. Another shiver passes through her body. She misses him. He had been strong and stable and _good_ and she had pushed him away out of fear, and that fear had been what almost consumed her.

“Such connections are detrimental,” Kalyn replies, relying on what she can remember of her training for a response. “They go against the very code the Jedi are formed from.” She turns to Vandar. “Why would you suggest I act on something so opposing to our ways?”

Vandar sighs, focusing on the fountain. “Certain bonds can do terrible things. They can produce fear, resentment, jealousy.” She can feel it: Vandar’s Force calling out to hers. She follows it on instinct, pouring her energy into the water. The fountain bubbles up with ease of the two Jedi’s powers, trickling softly down it’s edges and filling the room with its soothing sounds.

“But others,” he continues. “Others can give us strength.” Kalyn’s heartbeat picks up, head spinning again. She lets her Force subside, the flow of the fountain dying in its absence. 

“I think,” Kalyn pauses, keeping her eyes on Vandar, unsure if this is what he wants. “I need to go.” Vandar nods, and without another word she takes off down the hallway towards her room. It only takes a moment, scooping up her bag from the floor before turning around and rushing for the turbolift. The city is dark and the night is cold, wind whipping at her face as she catches the closest shuttle. She doesn’t stop running until she steps off the turbolift.

It’s dark in the hallway, all the tenants probably gone to bed hours ago. The holoscreen for Carth’s apartment beeps loudly at her approach. With her information deleted, it prompts for her identification, the mechanic voice echoing in the empty space. Her mind is racing. What if she made the wrong choice? What if he’s not here? What if he doesn’t answer? She stretches her mind through the door, into the apartment, and is met with a sudden wall of anxious energy. Carth stands on the other side, just inches away. She shrugs the bag off of her back, clinging to it for a small attempt at comfort.

She can’t speak. Doesn’t know what to say. Can’t begin to understand how she could dare ask for forgiveness. Not when he had given so much and she had taken and left. The holoscreen fades to black. She could leave. Turn around and try another day. Find a place to stay for the night, maybe go back to the enclave-

_I don’t know how this works, but here goes-_

It’s Carth. Projecting his thoughts, at least trying to. Kalyn can feel the strain in his voice as he tries to make his thoughts heard. She stretches her mind back to the room, not revealing her presence but easing his struggle to be heard. She comes in contact with a tangle of emotions. Worry. Desperation. Longing. Regret? 

_I feel like I’ve been forcing this - whatever this is - on you, and I’m sorry. I know you have a lot of adjusting to do, and I know how it feels to lose someone you love._

He pauses, as if unsure about what he wants to say next. His mind pulses with worry. A fear. But it’s not _of_ her, she realizes, but _for_ her.

_Her choices were not yours. And you can’t blame yourself for something you had no control in._

Kalyn grips her bag tighter. Of course. Who more likely to understand the weight of loss than someone who has gone through it before. There’s a long silence, and she wonders if that’s all he has to say.

_I’m going to open this door. And you aren’t there when I do...I understand. I won’t make any promises. I want you to know that this is hard, but we can work it out if that’s what you want. I...I’m all in._

Silence.

The doors slide open, barely audible over the hammering of her heart. Her gaze is on the floor, at Carth’s feet. She can’t find it in her to look him in the eyes. She retracts her mind quickly, wincing at the sudden loss of connection.

“Kalyn.”

She raises her eyes to his. He’s wearing a thin grey t-shirt and the sweatpants he sleeps in. It looks like he hasn’t shaved for a day or two. His eyes are tired, but there’s something else, a hope. His smile is small. The lights in the apartment are low, cloaking Carth’s form in shadow. Kalyn takes the few steps to clear the doorway, feeling the wind of the doors as they close behind her. For a moment all is still, she clutching her bag to her chest and he with his hands in his pockets. Kalyn opens her mouth to speak.

“I-”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Carth cuts her off, holding his hand up to stop her. He pulls his hand through his hair, shutting his eyes. “Just-” He avoids her when he opens them, hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. “-don’t leave again.” His voice wavers. He seems shaken. Like he can’t put up his usual front anymore. It’s hard to tell in the dim lighting, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Let me? Just this once?” She asks, smiling slightly. His eyes go back to her. He sighs, defeated.

“Just this once.” He returns her smile.

“I...I’m going through a lot,” Kalyn admits, unsure of where she wants this to go. “I let it get the better of me. I wish you weren’t the one at the end of all of it.” It’s a shitty apology, and she knows it. Her backpack feels awkward in her arms, and she lets it drop slowly to her feet. There’s tension in the air. It’s an anxious energy, an anticipation of what’s to come. It twists her stomach in knots. She shudders at the absence of heat that clinging to her bag provided, and Carth steps closer to rest his hands on her shoulders.

“Why are you always so cold?” There’s laughter in his voice as they avoid each other’s gaze, probably trying to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen between them. And to hide the fact that he had spoken just to have reason to touch her.

Okay, that might be projecting.

“It’s a recent development,” she huffs out a laugh. This scene is too familiar. “I’ll have to tell you sometime.”

Sometime. Like this is going to be a permanent thing. Carth’s grip on her shoulders tighten slightly, and she knows he noticed too. He makes a motion, a kind of bob forward and immediate retraction, like he’s unsure if they’re on the same page. She closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his shoulder. He sighs, relief coming off of him in waves, as he slides his hands across her shoulder blades and to the small of her back. She stays still, her hands fisted in his shirt. He smells like his shampoo. Fear prods the back of her mind. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, can’t remember the last time she’s done anything like this. He begins to draw circles with his thumb on her lower back, and it sends a chill up her spine.

“Sorry.” Kalyn’s voice is muffled against Carth’s chest. She’s not quite sure why she said that. He laughs.

“What did I say about apologizing?” He pulls away enough so that she can look him in the eyes. The sudden realization of their proximity makes Kalyn’s stomach drop. There’s no haze of alcohol to dim her senses this time; she can feel the heat radiating off his skin, see how his gaze flickers from her eyes to her lips. He’s smiling and heavy-lidded and how has she never noticed his eyes? They’re beautiful. Her heart threatens to burst out of her chest when he leans in closer. He’s cautious, eyes locked on hers. His hand goes to the back of her neck. She closes her eyes, her last sight Carth’s lips, paused, waiting for her to make the final move. 

She kisses him. It’s hesitant and soft and it scares her more than anything she has dealt with that day. Carth stays practically still, only leaning in when she starts to pull away. She can feel him smile against her, lips bumping together as he hovers in her space. This time he presses his lips to hers, wrapping his arms back around her to pull her in. They take their time, kisses slow and delicate. His touches feel like fire, and her mind grows hazy with the warmth surrounding her. She finds she can’t do much other than snake her arms around his neck and keep him close.

Carth breaks the kiss, taking a step backwards, and Kalyn follows. He leads her down the hallway, walking backwards with a soft smile on his lips. Kalyn’s hand in his is the only thing keeping her from careening into the walls. It’s intoxicating, almost dream-like, the way he keeps his eyes on hers. She feels like she’s in a trance.

Carth stops outside his room, bringing his hands to Kalyn’s waist, before leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. His hands trace shapes on her body, and she has to focus to stay grounded.

“You’re tired.” Carth’s voice is low and rough and it has the same effect on Kalyn as his touch, although her exhaustion is a better explanation for her dazed state of mind. “Don’t even think about saying sorry.” He catches her before she can say it. It’s like ‘thank you’s all over again, she can’t help it around him. She shoots him a look.

“Not like you’re any better.” Kalyn mumbles, suppressing a blush. “You look like shit.” Carth laughs.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” He replies, wide grin on his face. A pause. “I’ve missed you.”

“You sound like a schoolkid.” Kalyn tries to hide the flush growing across her face. Carth smirks. Asshole. He straightens up after a beat, eyes growing serious.

“You can stay in the other room if you want.” His voice is quiet. “I don’t want to assume-”

“Relax.” Kalyn interrupts him. It’s a command for them both. The door opens behind Carth, and they enter. His room is similar to Kalyn’s, with the bed facing the same direction, the closet, the nightstand, and the tv in the same spots. There are a few things decorating his walls, maps of foreign planets and an old movie poster. There’s a mirror above the dresser situated between the tv and the closet, and Kalyn catches a glimpse of her reflection as she passes by. Her skin is flushed, her eyes bright. She looks nothing like the war-torn recluse hiding away on the _Ebon Hawk_. No more the hollow shell of a former Sith Lord. She looks alive.

Carth kicks a few articles of clothing out of the way as he walks around the room, obviously not expecting company anytime soon. Stray sweatshirts, t-shirts, and sweatpants clutter the floor, and the bed is unmade. The room is warm, and the entire space smells just like him.

Kalyn shucks off her boots, leaving them by the door, and takes her sweatshirt off, throwing it towards the other clothing on the floor. She catches his eyes following the motion. It’s hard not to reach out with her mind, but she yields. For another time, perhaps. One, two steps and she’s at his side again. She keeps eye contact with him, newfound confidence surging as her hands trace the edges of his t-shirt, fingertips brushing the warm skin underneath. He grins, stepping away briefly to pull it over his head. Her hands trace up his chest, the touch of her bare skin against his electrifying.

Carth runs his hands over her scar-ridden arms. Her skin is rough and battle-worn, but his touch is delicate, and it makes her shiver despite the temperature of the room. He leans down to kiss her, just as slow as before, but there’s a need this time, and she echoes his energy. She captures his lower lip with her teeth, getting a strained groan in response. She laughs against his lips.

Carth guides her backwards to the bed, hands firm on her hips. Kalyn scoots back to the headboard, Carth following shortly behind. They tangle themselves together, too tired to do anything, but not wanting this moment to end. Carth’s touch is both dizzying and grounding, and she can’t help but sigh as his hands lightly trace her figure. He slowly scatters kisses along her jaw, down the side of her neck, and back to her mouth. She feels undone, cradled gently in Carth’s arms. He dims the lights, and his hand comes to rest around her waist, while the other cups her cheek, stroking her face with his thumb.

How can something so ordinary be so alien? There’s no cold chill of space, no ashy grit of the battlefield. She can’t pull from her past to define it. It’s something that war and chaos and danger can’t create. She’s so much more than that. She’s understanding and new beginnings and _forgiveness_. A thousand thoughts flood her mind. Her future presence with the Order, her decision to mentor Dustil, but they’re for another time. It’s different than before, ignoring her responsibilities until they confronted her face to face. She sets her questions aside, knowing that there will be a tomorrow to figure them out. It’s an entirely different way of thinking, planning the future, spending it with the person who shares this bed, with Carth. She’s terrified. She’s certain it’s right. It’s a confidence she never knew she’d reach again.

“You okay?” Carth whispers. She must have been staring oddly. She nods slightly, and it’s honest. He presses a chaste kiss to her lips, and Kalyn closes her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FORGIVENESS. CAN YOU IMAAAAAGINE  
> This was my first big fic since my Avengers days, and I'm pretty proud of it. Hope you guys enjoyed it!


End file.
